


Everywhere in You

by JSinister32



Series: All I Want for Christmas [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU Meeting, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, christmas happiness, delayed flight, first encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: When Will misses his flight home and has to take a hotel for the night, he's unsurprised to find that most rooms have been booked.  When a handsome stranger offers him the second bed in his own room, they come to the profound understanding that miracles can be found in the most unexpected of places.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: All I Want for Christmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054409
Comments: 160
Kudos: 348





	1. Kindness of Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about trying to make this a single chapter story, but I decided I'd much rather give you all a longer piece for the rest of my Winter advent. I like having room to let love grow, and this one will require a garden. I'll be adding to it as often as I can, and will be ending it right around New Years.
> 
> Adore you all. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing for you.
> 
> Hearts and Body Parts,  
> JM

_At Christmas,_  
_All roads lead home._  
_-Marjorie Holmes_

* * *

“May I have your attention, please. This announcement is for those boarding flight 718 to Baltimore.” When Will heard the forcefully cheerful voice crackle over the airport intercom with his flight number, he looked up from the novel he was attempting to read, his heart sinking. He raised a hand to his neck to rub away some of his tension, listening carefully to the rest of the message.

“Due to unanticipated weather conditions at our destination, flight 718 has been delayed until tomorrow morning, and will depart from gate C at 6AM. I repeat, flight 718 has been delayed until 6AM tomorrow. We apologize for the inconvenience and will be happy to reimburse any costs for accommodations that will be required for your stay. Thank you for traveling US Airlines, and we shall see you tomorrow morning.” Will groaned, watching as several people stood angrily from their seats, storming the courtesy desk like a small army attempting to overtake a village. He watched them for a moment, their cries already beginning to echo through the small space, before packing up the book he had been reading into his overnight bag. While the other passengers were occupied, he took the time to begin the trek out of the airport to one of the waiting cabs below.

Will knew he shouldn’t have waited to head home until the last minute, but the case in Chicago held him within its grasp for longer than he had anticipated. It had taken over five days to categorize the remains from all three homes, especially with how decimated the last had been. The killer still posed them the same as his last victims, but the addition of a house fire with some form of accelerant added to the mix had not helped them put the bodies together until earlier that afternoon. Will had completed his profile just in time to book what he hoped would be an easy red eye flight home, even with Jack all but demanding he stay to conclude the case.

“You should be here to see what your work does,” the agent had said, his voice gruff with much emotion as he ever showed. Will shook his head, casting the nitrile gloves into the trashcan as he left Jack standing amidst the charred bodies.

“I know what my work does,” he’d replied, his stomach already churning with what little he had managed to eat in the day. “I also get a Technicolor glory repeat in my dreams when I can sleep. You have what you need from me. You can take it from here.” He’d managed to snag a ticket to head home that day, and by all accounts should have been kicking back in his armchair in the next few hours, surrounded by his dogs as they waited for the night to turn into Christmas Eve. That had been before the delay, of course. Now, he’d be lucky to get home by midday, even with the early flight home. _It doesn_ _’t matter. It’s not like you have anyone waiting for you to share Christmas._

Closing down his darker thoughts, Will hurried through the airport, the twin glass doors marking his exit coming into view as he descended the escalator at a near run. He could already hear the hoards following in his footsteps, and if he had any chance of finding a hotel room, he’d need to have the head start. Stepping into the first taxi available, he closed out the noise of angry, stranded passengers with a click of the door falling closed behind him.

“Evening, sir. Where to?” The cab driver turned a worn, round face capped with a Chicago Cubs baseball cap to him, waiting for instructions. Will blinked, his mind going completely blank. _Get a grip and get out of here. Quick._

“Hi there,” he mumbled, his hands clutching at his carry on. “Um, can you please just take me to the nearest hotel that’s likely to have vacancies?” The cabbie nodded and started the fare, pulling out onto the winding drive leading out of the airport with the surety those who frequented the chaos of the airport seemed to have instinctively. Will leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, letting his exhaustion settle around him like a blanket. _Christ, can this day please just be over? All I want is some sleep._ His stomach rumbled at his internal monologue but he ignored it, instead letting the thought of sleep carry him to a better state of being.

“Flight delayed or something, mister?” the driver asked quietly. Will nodded, but realized after a moment that the driver was likely to be paying attention to the road, not his gestures.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice coming out as tired as he felt. “I suppose I should also warn you that there are likely to be a lot of angry people searching for a room tonight. Flight’s delayed until tomorrow morning at six.” The other man nodded appreciatively. 

“Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll try and keep as many happy as I can, but this close to the holidays, they’ll be lucky if they can find any occupancy available.” Will nodded wearily, letting his eyes drift closed once again, the soft bumps of the road easing his nerves. _Hopefully it won_ _’t be too much of an ask for the place he drops me off to have a room,_ he thought dismally. 

“There won’t be many places, but I’ll take you to my favorite,” the driver said. “They’re the most likely to have a decent room still available. Place is clean and quiet too, so you will get a good night’s rest.” Glancing back at Will from the mirror, he smiled ruefully. “You look like you need it.” Will let his lips lift in some semblance of a smile at the other man’s observation.

“You have no idea,” he murmured. The cab dropped him off at a nondescript hotel, pausing to lean through the window. “This place should do right by you. They always seem quite able to work a little magic when it comes to finding weary travelers a place to rest.” Glancing back towards the airport, the cabbie sighed. “Well, I’d better get back into the fray. Good luck, mister.” Will nodded gratefully and tipped twice his usual amount.

“Thanks again. And merry Christmas.” The other man returned the sentiment before driving off, leaving Will standing outside the office door, his hand firmly wrapped around his carry on. A cold wind blew between the buildings, biting at the exposed skin of Will’s face and neck. Shivering, he turned towards the doors of the lobby and let himself into the well lit building, pulling the door closed behind him. The lobby looked like any other mid range hotel, well lit and sparsely furnished, smelling of dust and sunlight. Will made his way forward, already praying for what was likely to be a miracle.

“Help you?” said a gruff voice from behind the counter. Will made his way forward, an attempt at friendliness etched into his exhausted features. Another gentleman, well dressed and obviously out of his element, stood to the far end of the counter, reading what looked like the room agreement for the night. The hotel clerk ignored him, addressing Will as if he were just another inconvenience keeping him from whatever television show blared in the small office just visible behind the desk. Will cleared his throat and smiled, stepping up to the till. The other patron ignored him and continued perusing the document with the same scrutiny a lawyer would give a contract. For a moment, the profiler wondered wildly if he was, in fact, a lawyer, but decided his occupation wasn’t all that important. _It_ _’s not like we will be speaking to one another._ He tried to keep his eyes to himself but it was almost impossible, given the man’s pristine appearance in such a place. The other man was tall, taller than him by a few inches, his coat more expensive than everything in Will’s current possession. Thick, straight silver and gold hair swept back from his high forehead, gleaming brightly in the light of the small space. Will caught a trace of a high end cologne on the air, which had likely been warming on the stranger’s skin for some time, given the faintness of the notes. The other man glanced in his direction, eyes appraising him with a single sweep. Will looked away, embarrassed. He cleared his throat, and tried for what he hoped would be a friendly tone.

“Hello. I was wondering if you had a room available for rent tonight. My flight-”

“Reservation?” the man behind the counter asked. Will shook his head.

“N-no, I don’t have a reservation. You see, my flight-”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any more rooms available tonight,” cut in the clerk. “Just rented out the last one to this guy before you arrived.” He gestured with a thumb in the stranger’s direction, but Will didn’t bother to follow. Instead, he hung his head and groaned, hands carding through his hair in frustration.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything?” he begged. “It doesn’t have to be fancy. Just a bed and a bathroom. Hell, I’d take a closet at this point.” The man behind the counter chuckled, but shook his head.

“Sorry fella. This close to Christmas, we have nothing left. Flights keep getting canceled, but we only have so many rooms.” He turned, picking up a map from behind him. “I can direct you to another hotel if you-”

“You are welcome to occupy the other bed in my room if you’d like,” said a cultured voice. The man that had been reading the room agreement held out the signed document to the clerk before turning to meet Will’s astonished gaze. The eyes that met his own were… _no, that can_ _’t be right. Some trick of the bright light._ Will stared longer than was likely polite, trying to decide what color they truly were, but his first assessment proved to be correct. The man before him had eyes stained maroon and gold, warm and bright as fire. The sudden realization that he had been staring for some time rushed into Will’s face, staining his cheeks with crimson. He looked back towards the clerk, embarrassed.

“Thank you for the offer, but I hardly doubt you want to room with a stranger,” he replied. “For all you know, I could be some kind of serial killer.” The man’s smile spread across his face, almost a baring of teeth rather than a true smile. Will stood where he was, feeling very much like a rabbit trapped in a coyote’s path. _Why does he make me feel as if he can see straight through to my very soul?_

“This close to Christmas, it would be in poor taste for a serial killer to be roaming the streets of Chicago in search of victims,” the stranger retorted smoothly. “Surely there is some rule book that would prevent such behavior.” Will laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

“I suppose you’re correct,” he replied. The other man smiled, raising his hand.

“Then its settled. You can take the other bed, and I shall sleep better knowing I didn’t send a man in need of a good night’s sleep out into the cold when I could help.” Will nodded, a ghost of his laughter still painted across his features.

“I appreciate it, Mr.-”

“Lecter,” the stranger said, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Hannibal Lecter.” He held out a hand towards Will. After a moment, he took it, allowing the heat from Hannibal’s skin to engulf him. The sensation sent a warm flush down his spine, spreading out through the rest of his body.

“Will Graham,” he replied. Their handshake remained for a beat before Hannibal drew back, addressing the clerk. The man behind the counter was watching them with a calculated interest that Will immediately didn’t like, but Hannibal fixed him with those bloodstained eyes, and the man visibly cowered back with a shiver.

“Add this gentleman to my room, please,” he said briskly. “I highly doubt we will be needing a second key, unless he plans to take his leave from the room at any time this evening.” Will shook his head, but as he did, his stomach let out a loud, embarrassing rumble. 

“On second thought, I’ll need to grab a bite to eat,” he said guiltily. “I guess I’ll need that second key if its not too much-” 

“You’ll do no such thing,” the other man interrupted. “I have yet to eat myself, as I was planning to do so on my flight home. I’d be happy to accompany you. That is,” he murmured, glancing into Will’s wide, cerulean gaze, “as long as you harbor no objections.” Amazed with the turn the night was taking, Will shook his head.

“That will be fine,” he replied with a tired smile. “I’d honestly be glad of the company tonight, especially given the hour.” Hannibal nodded and turned back to the proprietor. 

“Excellent. Do you have what you need?” The man behind the counter started, but nodded his ascent. 

“Yes, sir. You’re all set in room 6302. I can grab you a map if you give me just a moment.” Hannibal shook his head.

“It won’t be difficult to navigate I am sure. Have a pleasant evening.” Turning away, he picked up his sizable suitcase and made his way to the elevator in long, measured strides. Will followed, his carry on bumping against his side as they made their way inside door closing behind them with a quiet ping. Hannibal stationed himself against the back of the small space, leaning into the railing as if for support. Will glanced into his face, finally noticing the dark smudges beneath his eyes.

“Thank you for this,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I would have done tonight if I had to go on a scavenger hunt for another room.” Hannibal smiled.

“Rest assured, it is not a problem, Mr. Graham. Consider it Christmas serendipity.” The elevator shuddered to a stop, the doors sliding open with an audible creak. Hannibal wheeled his suitcase out, holding the door for Will to make his way through. Together, they set off down the hall in search of their room for what remained of the evening.


	2. Intimate Conversations

The room turned out to be an unmitigated disaster to which Will was unwilling to come to terms until he had something resembling an actual meal in his stomach. Upon opening the door, Hannibal had flicked on the light, illuminating a rather generic hotel room, one that could be found in any such establishment across the country. Nondescript beige carpet covered the floor, a high window complete with blackout curtains took up one wall. The heat was already droning in one corner by the windows and took the chill from the room, but only barely. A framed, poorly rendered copy of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers hung on the only wall equipped to handle artwork. The bathroom door revealed a small, functional tub and shower combination and a poorly lit sink that would make even the most attractive person appear sallow and sleepless.

The room itself would have been more than acceptable, save for one detail. The space that, according to the night clerk, should have contained two full sized beds instead held a single king bed, its comforter a snowy white cloud piled onto the mattress. It appeared to be thick enough to melt into. Upon the discovery, heat immediately rushed to Will’s face. Behind him, Hannibal gazed over his shoulder, a single, slender eyebrow raised.

“Well, this certainly makes things interesting,” he remarked blandly. The burn in Will’s cheeks flared across the back of his neck in a sudden and unpleasant rush of heat. _How am I going to spend the night in the same bed as a stranger, a handsome one at that? Why did this have to happen?_ Instead of commenting, he nodded wordlessly, moving out of the way for Hannibal to cross the threshold into the room and make his way to the bed. Will set his bag down on the floor, watching the other man out of the corner of his eye as he rummaged through it for his overnight kit.

“You’re welcome to rescind your offer,” he murmured, his voice displaying only a little of his distress. “It isn’t as if you have an obligation to me.” Hannibal chuckled, shaking his head.

“What kind of rescuer would I be if I sent you into the cold to fend for yourself when you have a flight to catch so early in the morning?” he asked, amused. “No, Will. I am perfectly comfortable sharing such a large bed with someone else. That is,” he continued as he set his suitcase on the side of the mattress nearest the door, “as long as you don’t mind sleeping next to me.” Will swallowed hard. A sudden image of long limbs wrapped around his own, breath on his skin as they slumbered entered unbidden into his subconscious. He forced the thought from his mind and lifted his lips into what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine with it. To be honest, I just really need some food and sleep, so I’d be happy to take the softest bit of floor available if necessary, as long as it was dry and warm.” Hannibal smiled and unwound his scarf from around his neck. Will caught a glimpse of a maroon tie exactly the color of Hannibal’s eyes before the other man turned to his bag.

“I find your company perfectly acceptable. I believe we should find some kind of eating establishment nearby and sate our hunger so we can return and get some sleep. I also have a very early plane to catch tomorrow.” As he passed Will, he stopped for a moment, placing a reassuring hand on the other man’s shoulder. The knot in Will’s stomach unwound a little at his touch. “Everything works out the way it’s meant to, Mr. Graham. Rest assured, you will get everything you need from what remains of this evening.” Will caught a faint gleam in Hannibal’s eye before he lowered his hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me a moment, I will change into something more… approachable, and we can go.” Will nodded and took his suitcase to the far side of the bed, placing it on the floor for easy access. 

Following Hannibal’s decision, he swapped his slacks for a pair of comfortable jeans and pulled a dark blue sweater over his head, the chill in the room receding with the added layers of clothing. He turned, intending to deposit his old clothing into his suitcase, but caught movement from the corner of his eye. Hannibal leaned against the wall, watching him, a look that resembled hunger of a very different kind gracing his handsome features. The jeans that hung from his slim hips were a dark wash and expertly cut, a thick, oatmeal colored cable knit sweater in place of his shirt, vest and jacket sculpted itself over his broad shoulders and slender waist. Will tried not to stare, but to do so would have taken more effort than he was currently capable of controlling. Instead, his other senses failed at the delightful vision before him. Hannibal grinned, a brief flash of teeth, before gesturing to the door.

“I’d recommend taking your overcoat,” he said as Will made his way across the room. Groaning, Will made his way back across the room, trying to clear the vision of the handsome stranger pulling on his leather gloves from his mind. _If I keep this up, I won_ _’t make it through dinner without embarrassing myself._ The thought stuck with him when he passed Hannibal to step into the hall, only to find the other man had reapplied the spicy, masculine aftershave of which Will had only caught a brief scent before. His appetites renewed, he turned towards the elevator to prevent himself from commenting.

***

The only place within walking distance ended up being a quaint local diner that specialized in breakfast dishes. The diner itself looked as if it had been preserved in a time capsule in the 1950’s; black and white checkered flooring gave way to dark red leather booths, chrome and red seating at the counter, a real milkshake machine gleaming in a place of pride in the center of the counter. Will took in the surroundings at a glance, but Hannibal gazed around, fascinated, as they were lead to their table.

“I didn’t believe restaurants like this still existed,” he murmured as they slid into their booth. Will snorted, amused, and turned over his coffee cup. Hannibal asked for hot tea instead of coffee, and the waitress, a woman young enough to make Will blush with her eagerness, flushed and disappeared to prepare their drinks while they perused the menu.

“There aren’t many that are in this pristine of condition to be sure,” Will replied, his eyes flicking over the print on the menu. The bold print promising the best French toast in Illinois caught his attention and solidified his decision before he had a chance to look over the other offerings. Lowering the laminated sheet, he eyed Hannibal over the top. “I have come across them from time to time while working, though.” Hannibal continued to look over his choices, but he glanced up to meet Will’s gaze for a moment.

“And what is it you do for work?” he asked, flipping the page. Will closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t mentioned his occupation. _Reading the story of murder from dead bodies doesn_ _’t exactly make decent dinner conversation._

“I honestly don’t really want to say. Its not good dinner conversation.” Hannibal lowered the menu, meeting Will’s tired eyes. Will’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the other man’s scrutiny. It had been a long time since he had caught someone’s eye and he found the entire experience, regardless of the reason, to be quite breathtaking.

“May I hazard a guess then?” Hannibal asked gently. Will considered a moment, but eventually nodded warily.

“I suppose, if you find it that interesting,” he acquiesced. Hannibal stared for a moment, but just as he opened his mouth, their waitress returned with their drinks, a bright smile aimed at Hannibal already in place.

“You gentlemen ready to order?” Hannibal nodded at Will, his eyes still on his menu.

“I am. I’d like the French toast, please. Bacon on the side.” The waitress nodded distractedly, scribbling onto her pad before glancing up at Hannibal, her eyelashes batting.

“And you, handsome?” The other man smiled, lifting his own gaze to Will’s face.

“I’ll take the same as my partner, thank you.” A flash of disappointment crossing her features, the waitress scribbled a small note on her pad before taking their menus.

“Food will be just a few minutes,” she murmured, resigned. “If you need anything, just holler.” The two men nodded as she turned away to put their orders in. Will raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the bitter black liquid in his cup. The coffee was actually quite good, especially for a diner. He watched Hannibal add a small amount of honey from an available packet before he took a sip.

“Partner?” he queried. Hannibal gave him a small smile, his hands wrapping around the porcelain mug to warm his hands.

“Forgive me the liberty. I did not appreciate the way she was staring, and wanted to put to rest any possibilities she might conjure while waiting on us this evening.” Will nodded thoughtfully before taking another sip from his cup. Inside, his entire being felt as if it were on fire. _As if he would ever truly consider-_ Before his mind could run away with itself, he cleared his throat, shutting down the train of thought completely. _Just don_ _’t. Don’t torture yourself._

“So. Your guess?” Hannibal stared at him thoughtfully for another moment, sipping his tea, before speaking.

“You’re law enforcement of some kind,” he replied, sounding very sure of himself. “Not local, so something specialized. My guess is something within one of the federal agencies. Likely the FBI.” Will’s eyes widened in amazement.

“How-” Hannibal chuckled.

“There are very few professions that will send you across the country and no type of sales position fits. You have an” he waived a hand in the air, “air of authority about you. You aren’t a field officer though.” He eyed Will’s sweater with something resembling admiration in his eyes. “You’re too well dressed for it.” Will laughed, a thread of unease running through his body. _Do I really look like an agent, or does he know who I am?_

“My profession… it wouldn’t make for good conversations while we are eating.” Hannibal nodded sagely.

“So something to do with the murders that were happening in the fine city of Chicago. The table arrangements with dead guests sat at each.” Will nodded again, surprise plain on his face.

“How-”

“Professional curiosity, I’m afraid,” Hannibal said. He smiled at Will’s obvious confusion. “I’m a psychiatrist with a particular proclivity towards the study of the pathologies of violent crimes,” he clarified. Will’s heart pounded hard in his chest. _Have we crossed paths? Our fields are remarkably similar._

“I wonder now if we’ve ever come across one another unknowingly,” Hannibal continued, raising his tea to his lips. “Our fields are-”

“Remarkably similar,” Will finished, unsettled. “I was just thinking the exact same thing.” The two men stared at one another without speaking until their food arrived moments later. The waitress, sensing something was amiss, placed their plates before them without a word before making a decidedly hasty retreat. Will picked up his fork, but his appetite seemed to have vanished with the realization that Hannibal would easily be able to tell how much was truly wrong with him. _It_ _’s fine_ he tried to tell himself as he added syrup to his French toast. _It isn_ _’t as if you’ll see him again after tonight._

Hannibal took a bite of his food, sliding the fork from between his lips as if he were savoring an expensive dessert. He closed his eyes as he chewed, enjoying the riot of flavors on his tongue. The French toast was remarkably good for their location, much to his pleasant surprise. When he opened his eyes, it was to find Will staring at him with something very close to desire buried in the depths of his eyes. Hannibal let the gaze linger without comment, relishing in the unconscious attention. _You wish very much for someone to understand, yet you fear letting anyone close enough to see the ugliness of your career. You want someone to talk to, but are unsure of how to broach the subject._ Hannibal took another bite of food before turning his gaze back to meet his companion’s startlingly blue eyes. He found himself, for the first time in longer than he could remember, willing to reach out to this man sitting across from him, a man in obvious distress, running from his own mind. _Let me in just a little. Talk to me. I can relieve some of your burden if you allow me to do so._

“So,” he spoke carefully, unwilling to break their tentative connection. “Now you know the dirty secret of what I do for a living.” Will smiled wanly at his joke. _Progress._ Hannibal pressed on gently. “Would you like to enlighten me to the nature of your work?” Will stared at him for several seconds without speaking. Hannibal held his gaze, continuing to eat as if they were having a normal conversation. _It would be perfectly normal if not the nature of our careers._

“I’m a… forensic profiler,” Will finally murmured. “Well, that’s as close as I can come to an official title. Its more difficult to explain than that.” Hannibal picked up his tea, finishing the last in the mug. He smiled at the waitress and held it up. She nodded and began preparing a new mug.

“Can you explain to me how it differs?” he asked, his voice still calm and controlled, coaxing. Will played with the food on his plate, his eyes following its trek through the syrup. Hannibal continued to eat, waiting. _Talk to me. It will help._

“I can read them,” Will said quietly. “If I enter a crime scene, I can be who they are for a short time. Completely assume their personality and motives.” Hannibal sat back, truly surprised for the first time since they met. _Of course. It all makes sense now._

“You’re an empath,” he replied. Will glanced up into his eyes, then back down to his plate. He nodded wordlessly. _He can feel anything and everything others feel at any time. Perhaps unconsciously and without control. What a truly terrible gift to possess._

Out loud, he spoke the next words that came to mind. “That must be a very heavy responsibility to carry on your own. I doubt many would comprehend the implications of feeling and seeing through another’s perspective so completely as you must if you’re here.” Will didn’t reply. Hannibal’s mind raced, his heart unexpectedly straining at the other man’s plight.

_I would like to help you. Carry some of the load of what weighs you down, even for a short time._

“Nobody really understands what its like for me to be on a crime scene,” Will murmured. “My boss believes I can learn to handle the pull of my fear, but some cases, like the one here…” he swallowed audibly. Hannibal’s heart squeezed hard in his chest. _Oh, Will. No wonder you wanted to keep the nature of your work from me. Let me ease it in the best way I can._

“Think nothing more of it tonight,” Hannibal said, pushing away his plate. “It’s very late and you are in need of rest, not some shrink poking around in your head when you’re already feeling vulnerable.” The doctor stood, collecting the check that had been discreetly dropped off with his tea. Will followed suit, removing his wallet from his pockets. At his offer, Hannibal shook his head.

“Think of it as a continuation of my rescue,” he said as he paid. “And an apology for my questions.” Will nodded gratefully and pocketed the worn leather. 

“Thanks, Hannibal,” he replied. “Most aren’t so polite about what I do.” Hannibal shook his head, opening the door for Will to pass through.

“Few would understand it as I do. I apologize for prying. It was unkind of me when I do not know you well enough to do so yet.” Will glanced over as they headed down the sidewalk towards their hotel.

“Yet?” he asked, his voice small and unconsciously hopeful. Hannibal guided him around to the crosswalk with a hand on his back, feeling in his soul the tremor that ran through the profiler’s body. _Touch starved and a mind that can be anyone it chooses to be. You need better than what you have._

“Yet,” Hannibal confirmed. “For now, let us retire from this horrible day and its troubles and get some sleep. We have flights to make too early to contemplate after all.”

They entered the elevator, and stayed silent as the door closed behind them and it began its ascent. Will’s heart pounded as he tried very hard and failed miserably not to recall that they were about to share a bed. _It will all seem like a dream tomorrow_ he reasoned. _But maybe_ _… maybe I can hold onto the intimacy of it for just a little while. Even his warmth, knowing he’s on the other side of the bed will be a welcome comfort tonight._ Swallowing hard, he followed Hannibal out of the elevator for the second time and into another great unknown.


	3. Unexpected Proximity

Will exited the bathroom to find the lights in their room already dimmed. Hannibal had sent him to the shower and prepare for bed first, insisting that he could do with less sleep than the profiler so obviously needed. 

“I have been through a much less objectionable stay in Chicago than you have, Will. I will feel better if you are beneath the sheets first.” Hannibal had been so sincere in his request that Will hadn’t been able to find it in him to argue, and so he had ensconced himself in the bathroom within minutes of arriving back at the hotel. He stripped from his clothes with a shiver, diving beneath the water in a desperate need for warmth. Although the pressure in the shower was less than his own at home, the hot water was infinite and it didn’t take long beneath the spray before his eyes were drooping. His mind drifted between memories of his evening; the way Hannibal had looked in his suit, their dinner conversation, the inflection in his voice when he spoke with concern about Will’s state of mind. Hidden within the safety of the shower, it wasn’t difficult to admit to himself just how attracted he was to the man in the next room. He shampooed his hair, trying desperately to keep his thoughts from straying to his casual elegance, his ability to see through Will’s walls as if they didn’t exist, the lingering, appreciative glances he continued to give Will as they made their way back to the room. The more he tried to dismiss each occurrence, the more impossible the task proved to be.

Will reached idly down between his legs to clean himself, only to find his thoughts had had an unsurprising effect on his body; he was now hard as iron and sensitive to his gentle touches, the head of his cock flushed a deep rose and shining with precome, wet with lubrication even with the steady torrent of water pouring over his skin. He closed his eyes guiltily and stroked himself with soap filled hands, biting back the moans he wanted to release into the warm, damp air. _I shouldn_ _’t do this. He’s right there and could walk in to check on me at any moment._ Will snorted; the rational part of his mind was putting up a fair fight, but he knew without a doubt that his body wasn’t about to listen to reason. He gave in to his need and within minutes, the gentle, exploratory strokes along his shaft tightened around him, wringing a soft groan from his throat. Will tilted his head back into the water and rocked his hips into the sleeve his hands created around his cock. _Christ_. _Holy fuck that feels good._ Tingles cascaded along his scalp and down his spine as he worked his cock through his hands, desperate to come, focused on keeping quiet. His mind wandered out into the other room, where Hannibal sat, unknowing that he was the star of Will’s fantasies. He bit back another moan as he imagined his own fist replaced with slim, dexterous fingers, a voice in his ear telling him to spill across the hand stroking him. 

The thought proved to be his undoing. With every semblance of control he still possessed, Will stifled his cried of pleasure as his orgasm crashed into him, bearing him away on a tidal wave of pleasure so intense, his knees went weak. Never before had he experienced such an cataclysmic rush of sensation; great peaks of pleasure making his vision pulse in time with each crest. Exhausted, Will collapsed to the bottom of the tub and watched the evidence of his passion rinse away as if it had never been there.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, clean, relaxed and warmer than he had felt since arriving in Chicago. He dressed quickly in boxers and a clean t shirt and attended to his teeth, running a comb through his curls before opening the door into the rest of the room.

Hannibal was seated at the minuscule desk, working on what appeared to be some case notes, a fountain pen scribbling on the pad with a faint scratching sound. At the sound of the door, he glanced up with a smile. It took all of the profiler’s willpower to refrain from blushing. Hannibal’s eyes languidly traced Will’s form, taking in his state of undress as if he were preparing a lover for bed. When their eyes met, the heat behind the maroon gaze was enough to bring the blush he had been trying to prevent to Will’s cheeks. He could see pleasure in the doctor’s eyes at his reaction, and to cover for his own indiscretion in the shower, Will turned without a word towards the bed, tossing his clothing towards the chair on the far side of the room. _I_ _’ll just wear that tomorrow, it’s not as if it’s actually dirty-_

A hand descended upon the profiler’s back, warm through the thin material of his t shirt. Will’s eyes fell closed as he shivered beneath the touch, his entire body in need of more, anything, everything. He wanted to turn, but the fingers on his skin held him in a kind of comfortable paralysis. _Feels good to have someone touch me. His hands-_

Hannibal leaned in to speak in his ear, his voice low and soothing through the fog of pleasure Will had experienced at his own hands. “Will you be warm enough in such a state of undress?” Will swallowed hard and tried to keep his mind and body from the sudden fantasy welling up within him. _He is not yours. Stop behaving as if you_ _’re going to get more than a night’s sleep out of your arrangement._ Turning his head, he smiled.

“I run hot beneath the covers,” he reassured his companion. “I should be fine.” Hannibal’s hand slid down his back, thumbs tracing the bumps of his spine before withdrawing completely. Will immediately missed his touch.

“As long as you’re comfortable. That is all that matters.” The profiler nodded and moved to the bed, pulling back the covers to slide beneath them with a sigh. Hannibal regarded him with hooded eyes, desire plainly etched into his handsome features. They watched one another sleepily for a long moment before Hannibal moved to the bed. Will wondered for a wild moment if he meant to kiss him, which gave way to confusion when Hannibal began to tuck the covers around him, pushing the blankets beneath him to hold them in place. 

“Thanks,” Will mumbled, feeling very much like a child. “But what are you doing, exactly?”

“You’re most welcome,” he replied, his cologne wafting through Will’s senses in a cloud of spice and leather. Will breathed in the scent, wishing with all his heart that he could drag the stranger down into a kiss. The corner of Hannibal’s mouth lifted into a smile, as if he knew what was on Will’s mind. _Maybe he does and he is doing all of this to torment me,_ Will thought dismally. _It would be just my luck if he was truly that sadistic._

“I have a tendency to collect all of the covers from a bed,” he said by way of an explanation. “If I do not tuck them around you now, it’s likely that I will pull them off you in the middle of the night, and you’ll be out in the cold.” Will felt a knot of tension release in his chest as he nodded in understanding.

“I suppose if that happens, I may just have to steal your heat,” he replied before he could stop himself. The heat that rushed into his face was dizzying, but Hannibal only smiled as if he didn’t notice.

“If that becomes necessary, I wouldn’t deny you.” The doctor paused, holding Will’s wide blue gaze, his face unreadable. “I do not know the driving force that brought you within my path, Will, but I can say with sincerity that I wish to be approachable to you for the duration of our association. Should you need warmth in the middle of the night, please do not hesitate to share mine.” The doctor straightened and took his toiletries to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Will to his thoughts. Disconcerted, Will turned on his side, the scent of Hannibal’s cologne still clinging to the air, and shut his eyes. He prayed for sleep to come quickly.

***

It was close to 2AM when Will woke, his body tightly wrapped around a spare pillow and chilled to the bone. When Hannibal had come to bed, dressed in a tight pair of boxer briefs and nothing else, Will had watched him hungrily from beneath his lashes, pretending to sleep so as not to embarrass himself. It was a difficult task to accomplish, but he had managed, if only barely. The doctor had taken some time to settle in for the night, turning off the light only when he joined the other man beneath the blankets. Will was an expert of keeping his breathing even, having spent his last relationship feigning sleep to keep from fighting on a near constant basis with his ex. He needn’t have worried, though; Hannibal had merely glanced in his direction before turning out the light, settling on his back with a weary sigh. Will had managed to keep himself under control until the lights went out.

The darkness changed everything. When the blackness of the night surrounded them, the intimacy of their situation came crashing into Will with the force of a bullet train. They were now beneath the same covers, their animal warmth shared although they remained at a distance from one another. He could feel the tension radiating out from Hannibal’s side of the chasm created by the invisible barrier they had unconsciously erected between the sides of the bed. Will wondered wildly what would happen if he were to reach out and touch Hannibal’s back, stroke his skin, feel his lungs fill with air as he rubbed the tension out of the magnificently sculpted muscles. His fingers itched to touch, but in the end, his cowardice had won out. _It won_ _’t be welcome. Leave him be. You won’t see him again after tonight._

They lay mere feet from one another, but it may as well have been another continent. After an hour of pretending to sleep, Will had finally drifted off, safe and warm in the knowledge that he would have the memories of Hannibal’s kindness to last him through the holiday season when he returned to his empty home.

The cold that woke him wracked his body with shivers, the bed beneath him quivering as he tried to assess his surroundings in the pure darkness of the hotel room. As he had predicted, Hannibal had managed to steal most of the covers and in doing so had them wrapped around himself like a cocoon. Will stared dismally at the scant end now available for his use, contemplating his next move. _I could just take another shower. Use the water to warm up. It would prevent me from having to wake him. But its so far._ Will crossed his arms over himself, rubbing his arms in a vain hope to bring some warmth back to his limbs without having to bother the man asleep next to him, but it was proving a more futile task by the minute.

In the end, his exhaustion won out. Instead of attempting to shower, he grasped the end of the blanket, held his breath and tugged. Nothing happened. The comforter didn’t budge an inch. He took a deep breath and got a better grip on the end, pulling harder. Hannibal made a small noise low in his throat and turned within the confines of his nest. Still asleep, he reached out and touched Will’s cold skin, shrinking back when he made contact with the shivering profiler. Will’s heart pounded hard in his chest at the contact, the warmth of Hannibal’s skin on his. _Please. Oh, please._

“Will?” the doctor murmured, his voice thick with sleep. Will swallowed down his sudden panic, wanting more than anything to be warm again, safe within Hannibal’s bubble. Scooting closer to the sleeping man, he pressed himself to the front of the blankets. _Please don_ _’t send me away from you._

“Why are you so cold, darling? Come here and let me warm you.” came the voice from beneath the sheets. Will stopped breathing for a moment, unsure he had heard what he thought he did, his pulse a timpani of need in his veins. Instead risking a response, he moved a little closer, a prayer on his lips. Hannibal somehow unwound the nest and encased him within, warm arms and chest and stomach suddenly surrounding him in perfect tactile heat. Will sighed, sinking into the comfort of the other man’s touch, praying to anyone listening that Hannibal didn’t wake. _Just this once, let me have this. Please._ Hands came up to stroke his hair, tangling within his curls. Will moaned quietly, relinquishing any control he may have had to the feel of Hannibal’s hands in his hair. The doctor sighed, drawing him closer against his body. Will’s heart kicked hard, pulsing with his desire to be held while he slept. _Please don_ _’t let me go. I need this more than you will ever understand._

“There now,” crooned Hannibal’s sleepy voice above him. “This is where you belong, isn’t it? Rest with me. Be warm with me.” The strings of words murmured into his hair turned Will’s insides to liquid. Nobody, not his ex nor any other person he had ever had the chance to share any level of intimacy, had spoken to him such tender and secret words of comfort. Without thinking, Will’s arms came up to brush against the warm skin of Hannibal’s sides, stroking in long, gentle sweeps against his muscled belly. The other man let out another quiet moan, his body arching towards the careful touches. Without daring to breathe, Will allowed his hands to travel upward along the doctor’s chest. A soft smattering of hair met his palms, so pleasant to stroke that Will could have died and been happy with his lot. Instead, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, he burrowed further into Hannibal’s arms and slept better than he had in years. Even in his dreams, Hannibal did not let him go.


	4. A Stranger's Goodbye

Will woke to the shriek of his alarm, the room still shrouded in perfect wintry darkness. The unfamiliar surroundings made the entire moment surreal and disorienting; the high pitched squall of his phone did nothing to help the situation. Reaching across the bed, Will flailed wildly for a moment in an attempt to turn the infernal thing off. His arm came into contact with hard wood, bringing a hiss to his lips as his phone clattered to the floor and out of sight. By the time he climbed out of bed and silenced it with a quick press to the screen, he realized what was causing the majority of his unease. He was completely and utterly alone. The room was devoid of its other occupant, including his his belongings; it was as if he had never been there. Will shivered in the cold air of the room, his insides feeling as if they had turned to ice. Without thinking, he sank to the edge of the bed, his mind occupied with memories from their time together. _What happened last night that would cause him to leave without so much as a goodbye? What did I do?_ He straightened his legs and let his weight carry him to the floor, pressing his back to the base of the bed to steady him, and his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs from the entire shitty week that lead to his being in the hotel at all. He replayed images of the brief flash of Hannibal’s eyes at the reception desk to the meal they had shared, discussing their work and a few other minor details of their lives; nothing out of the ordinary came to the forefront of his mind. The memory of the episode in the shower brought a faint tinge to his cheeks, but in his concentration, he barely noticed. Another altogether different moment took the place of everything that filled his mind in a wash of embarrassment. 

_Oh._

The hands that had drawn him back against a warm and solid chest flashed through his mind. The comfort and intimacy of the animal heat of another body sharing space with his own had been enough to induce the best night of sleep Will had ever experienced in his adult life. Something about Hannibal’s scent, the casual but intimate way he carded his hands sleepily through Will’s hair were enough to bring every moment before he had succumbed to exhaustion crashing into his mind with the force of a falling star. _He called me darling. I must have wound myself around him like a strangling vine. I_ _’m sure by the end of it, my obvious need for human connection would get on anybody’s nerves._

Dismally berating himself, Will summoned what remained of his energy and dressed without looking into the mirror, going through the motions of running a comb through his wild disarray of curls and brushing his teeth. He went through the hotel room inch by inch, telling himself he didn’t want to leave anything behind, but with the hope of finding something, anything to prove he wasn’t losing his mind. Hannibal, it seemed, had been thorough. There wasn’t so much as a tissue to indicate he had been there at all. In the end, all Will had were his memories, a mental movie he was beginning to doubt. With a heavy heart, he closed the door, pulling the handle to ensure it had locked. He stared at it a moment before turning away, his throat tight. Without another thought, he made his way to the lobby, thumbing his phone automatically for a ride to the airport.

***

Will stepped to the window of the lobby without a word to the clerk, a friendly looking blonde woman that could have been in her late 20’s to early 30’s; had he not been so distracted with his memories, he might have been able to hazard a better guess, but as things in his mind currently stood, the mystery age of Jane Doe didn’t even register as important. The morning was a dismal grey, the same color as every other day that he’d spent in Chicago. Today seemed especially dreary, all the color leached by the clouds in the sky. _What a way to spend Christmas Eve. Thinking about a man I_ _’ll never see again, wondering why he couldn’t say goodbye when he didn’t owe me an ounce of kindness._ Will continued to stare, wishing his car would arrive so he could focus on something, anything else.

“Mr. Graham?” came a hesitant voice from the behind him. Will turned, surprised to hear his name in a place he had never given it. The blonde behind the counter was staring at him questioningly, her large brown eyes focused on his own. Will cleared his voice and lifted the corners of his mouth in what he hoped looked like a smile.

“That’s me. How can I help you?” The woman behind the desk smiled her relief, beckoning him over.

“Oh good. You’re exactly as he described.” Will’s heart went still; for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Gathering what remained of his nerve, he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, but exactly as who described?” The woman smiled, reaching beneath the desk to produce something rectangular and white.

“The other guest from your room, sir. Doctor Lecter.” Will went completely still. _So it wasn_ _’t a dream after all._ “He asked me to give this to you upon your departure, saying he had a much earlier flight than you to catch.” She held out the object she had been holding onto. It was an envelope, thick with sheets of paper. Will took it with shaking hands, tucking it into the pocket of his overcoat.

“Th-Thank you.” She nodded, the smile breaking out into a grin.

“You have the same look of longing he had when he left it, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir.” The back of Will’s neck flushed with heat; _had Hannibal looked that way, or was she misremembering in some hopes of a romantic story coming from two strangers crossing paths in a hotel two days before Christmas?_ He returned her smile anyway; the look of happiness left her glowing, making it difficult to refrain from joining her in her mirth. 

“I appreciate you remembering to give it to me.” A horn honked from outside; Will’s Uber had finally arrived. He turned back briefly, flashing another small smile to the woman behind the counter as he gathered his bag. “That’s me. Thank you again, and have a merry Christmas.”

“The same to you, sir. I hope you get everything you could want.” _Not likely._ His mind on the letter in his pocket, Will made his way out the doors and into the cold to where his ride waited for him.

***

Will sank into the seat of the plane with a grateful sigh, his relief to be headed home so he could put the nightmares of the past week to rest palpable. By the time the plane taxis onto the runway, he managed to come to another monumental decision, one he never truly thought he’d need, but now required more than he needed to breathe. In all his years at the FBI, Will can count on one hand how many days he’d taken off. In the wake of the moment of intimacy he was able to share with Hannibal, he realized he was tired, burned completely to the end of his emotional and mental limit. The decision to ask for some time to recover a little of his mental stability was slow to come in its rarity, but once it made its way to the forefront of his mind, Will knew he’d ask Jack for what he needed. _Be stronger, more centered if I shut it off for a while. Just a little while. Surely he_ _’ll understand._ Will snorted unconsciously, leaning his head back into his seat. _Doesn_ _’t really matter if he understands, I suppose. I don’t really work for Jack, just help him out when he gets stuck. Just gotta make sure he understands how much I need this._ His resolve strengthened, Will closed his eyes and waited for the plane to take off.

They had been in the air for almost an hour when Will finally woke, warm and far more comfortable than he should have been. A flight attendant had apparently taken pity on him at some point; a blanket lay across his chest and lap, tucked in behind him so it stayed put. Will stirred in his seat, stretching just enough for his back to realign. The blanket slid into his lap with a whisper, bunching up in warm folds around him. Part of him wanted to close his eyes again and reach for the sleep that still floated within his grasp, but he knew without a thought that it wasn’t going to happen; in the dream he had been having, he had been reading something, a sheaf of white papers covered in elegant script. _The letter. I was reading the letter Hannibal had left for me._

His heart thumping, Will reached across his seat to the empty seat next to him, grasping his overcoat where he had tossed it at the beginning of the flight in his realization that he would not have to share his row with any other passengers. Heart thumping, his fingers skimmed over the familiar fabric, reaching into the opening to find the inner pockets. He felt along the material for the bulge of the pages. Nothing. He frowned, his brows drawing together in confusion. He felt along the other pocket, hoping against all hope that he simply forgot which pocket it had been in. No letter fell into his waiting hands. The anticipation in his stomach slowly burned into frustration, then a deep resignation as he realized that the letter was no longer in his coat. He felt along the seat, hoping it had fallen out when he took his jacket off, but he somehow knew that he wasn’t going to find it there.

Will leaned once more into his seat, his buoyancy at the idea of finally reading whatever it was that Hannibal wanted to tell him deflated like a leftover birthday balloon, taking with it any happiness he had retained since waking up alone surrounded in sheets that smelled of Hannibal’s aftershave. The flight attendant, a lovely woman with mink colored hair twisted up into a knot at the back of her neck, came by to make sure he was feeling okay. 

“You’re pale, sir,” she murmured in hushed, soothing tones as she folded up the blanket he had been wrapped in. “May I offer you a ginger ale? It may help with any underlying discomfort you may still be feeling since you woke.” Will nodded his thanks, his mind still trying to remember where he had last seen the letter. _Had it with me the entire time I was checking in for my flight. Felt it underneath my coat when I slipped it off for the security check. I must have dropped it when I removed my coat for the flight._

The flight attendant brought him the ginger ale and a small bag of pretzels. Will thanked her with a small smile and halfheartedly ate them, his stomach still clenching tightly. The speaker came to life, informing the passengers that their final descent would be occurring within fifteen minutes; the last sweep for trash was made, in which Will deposited his plastic cup and wrapper. The pretzels turned to lead as the plane coasted into the familiar buildings of BWI, his stomach churning with the pressure changes in their landing and the realization that he would never know what Hannibal wanted to tell him. 

The plane coasted smoothly to the ground, to the applause of everyone on board. Will waited until the plane was mostly cleared of other passengers before collecting his belongings. With a heavy heart and a small smile to those working the flights on the last day before Christmas, he made his way down the ramp and out into the snow filled Baltimore air, his mind whirling with the loss he had incurred during his disastrous trip to Chicago. _If I never have to go back, it will be too soon._

***

Will made it through his front door with a sigh, closing it behind him with a thud. _God it feels good to be home._ His pack milled around his feet in a sudden rush of fur and frenzied welcome; the sight of them waiting and whining for him at the door had been enough to lift his spirits for a few moments before his melancholy set back in. He made his way into the kitchen, leaving his bag in the hallway to deal with when he had more energy. At that moment, all he wanted to do was take care of his animals and sink onto the couch to lament his losses.

He padded into the main room of his home, feet quiet on the wooden floors as he made his way through the familiar rooms he had missed so much while on the road. _Well, missed until the night I slept in the arms of another man. Someone who tried to understand me, if only for a little while._ Shutting the thoughts out of his head, he filled the food and water bowls, promising the dogs something better when he made his own poor excuse for a Christmas meal that evening. 

Satisfied with their wellbeing, and with a final scratch to Winston’s ears, Will made his way to the bedroom, collapsing to the bed with a hearty sigh. The sheets had been changed the day he left to ensure they wouldn’t smell stale when he came back. Thankful for his own foresight, he rolled to his side, fishing his phone out of his pocket, thumbing open his email app. He typed in his password to his work email list and began constructing the request for a week off; just enough time to get over his experiences in Chicago and heal from the horrors the year had wrought. He reread the bullet points he laid out, changed a couple around in case Jack got bored and only skimmed what he wrote, and pressed send before he could stop himself. He waited until the message indicated his email had been delivered before he tossed his phone onto the nightstand. Without bothering to undress, Will pulled the covers around himself and sank into a deep and dreamless slumber.

His phone went off ten minutes after he drifted off, indicating the time he requested had been granted. _You_ _’re right,_ the message read. _You need to take some time to let go of the year, just like the rest of us do. You_ _’re not a machine, Will. Sometimes, your ability to neglect your own wellbeing lets me forget that. I’ll see you in a week. Merry Christmas. JC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the holidays ended up being much more time consuming than I expected, I'll be finishing up this fic throughout the week leading up to New Years. It's more fitting to where I'm taking it. This is what happens when I try to give myself deadlines; the universe laughs at me.
> 
> I'm looking forward to seeing what 2021 brings us all. I will bring you as much delight as I can with stories, and will be excited to hear from you all.
> 
> Love you guys. I hope you all had a wonderful, magical Christmas. I can't wait for you to find out what happens next.
> 
> Hearts and Body Parts,  
> JM


	5. What Was Lost

_“Things are never lost to you;_   
_You are lost to them._   
_If ever in need of a Thing that is lost to you,_   
_Simply stop hiding from it._   
_-Shannon Hale_

* * *

Christmas Eve faded into Christmas Day in a haze of sleepy warmth, the turmoil of the previous week melting away into relief to be within his own space, safe and without the need to resume his normal workload for an entire week. Will spent what remained of the holiday alternating between his couch by the fire and the bed, falling to sleep in the glow of his Christmas tree. After much consideration, he was grateful for deciding to put one up, even if he was the only person who would be around to enjoy it. The brightly shining bulbs illuminated the room in a kaleidoscopic array of colors, dancing across his floor and ceiling in a bright pattern that moved with the firelight. He worked very hard to keep his mind relaxed and peaceful; his dogs, sensing his need for peace simply curled along the floor at varying distances from the fireplace, resting with their master. Even Buster, who was normally tenacious in his need for attention, managed to relegate himself to Will’s feet when he stretched out on the couch, the nub of his tail wagging furiously when Will stroked the soft fur between his ears. Christmas faded into night without incident; Will managed to keep his emotions steadfastly neutral, unwilling to examine what could have been on a day that held its own form of healing magic.

As he got ready for bed that night, freshly showered and hot skinned, Will followed his nightly ritual, one he had held so long that he didn’t bother to think about it beyond the comfort it always seemed to bring him. Once dressed, he wrapped himself in the warmth of his winter robe and turned out the light to his bedroom, plunging the room in complete darkness. Without having to guide himself, he made his way across the room and took a seat in the picture window, pulling the edges of his robe securely around himself to keep away the chill emanating from the cold glass of the windows. Settling himself against the wooden panel to the left side of the bench, Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes for almost a full minute, giving himself plenty of time to acclimate to the darkness that now surrounded him. When he was sure he would be able to see, he turned his head and opened his eyes. Gazing outward through the slightly fogged glass, he could just make out a minuscule smattering of stars in the inky darkness of the night sky. The familiarity of the constellations visible from his vantage point made his pulse slow, his breathing deepen with contentment. The white glow of the snowfall that blanketed the ground and trees added a dreamlike quality to his usual visual perusal; it was impossible not to be in awe of the sheer beauty of his surroundings. Will watched the stars drift across the skies, his mind finally able to examine the intensity of his feelings for the man he met in Chicago. He had never felt such a fierce connection with another person; it threw him off balance, made him question every fort he had managed to build around himself over the years of working for the FBI. Hannibal had managed to smash through them in a single evening as if they had never existed.

 _Perhaps we aren_ _’t meant to be together, or even see one another again,_ he mused as he watched a falling star shoot across the skies. _But somewhere out there, Hannibal_ _’s stars and mine are the same._

The realization that in some way, they’d always be connected, warmed Will’s heart. He made his way to the bed, crawling beneath the sheets with renewed comfort filling his entire being. He drifted off without troubles, his thoughts on the warmth of Hannibal’s skin. _Even if he never holds me again, we will always have the stars to connect us._

***

Two days after Christmas found the profiler in town to collect his usual supplies for what remained of his hiatus from the Bureau. Jack had only checked in once, a digital mirror to his nose to ensure he was still breathing. Will ensured him that the time he was spending away from work was helping center him; he would be better than ever when he returned. Jack’s stoicism broke during the conversation; Will could read the relief between the lines of his perfunctory messages. He had been truly worried when Will had read the last case in Chicago, concerned enough to request that Will start seeing a therapist when he returned from his vacation. Jack even admitted that he had set up a preliminary appointment for him with a specialist, someone who would be able to help him confront whatever demons had taken up residence in his mind. Will snorted, amused at Jack’s concern, but agreed to the appointment. _It won_ _’t do me any harm to see someone,_ he thought as he tucked the brown paper bags into the passenger seat of his car. _Maybe talking with someone will help me sort out the worst of it. It could make the job easier._ Heartened for the first time in longer than he could remember, Will finished packing his groceries into his car, nodding politely to the couple who asked if they could take his cart from him. He backed slowly out of the parking spot and made his way back towards his home, his mind on his conversation with Jack. It only took him a couple of miles to recognize a huge shift in his mindset, the lack of discomfort he felt at Jack’s request for him to see someone. _I have this. I really will be okay._ The thought stayed with him, raising a small smile to his lips, the entire ride home. _If only I could share it with_ _… (him) someone._

Although unsure on the source of his confidence, Will knew instinctively that Chicago caused a shift in his thinking. Unwilling to ruin his mood with thoughts of the man left behind, Will pulled onto the road that served as his driveway, maneuvering his car carefully over thin patches of ice, following the winding path to his home. Turning off the car, he gathered the bags containing his groceries and carried them up the steps to his home, letting himself into the hushed quiet only broken by the pattering of furred paws. 

The dogs still seemed to be monitoring his moods and remained as subdued as they had been upon his return. In his appreciation, Will had picked up a bag of dog treats; as he carried his groceries through the house, Winston had already managed to scent them and was busy trying to make himself tall enough to nose through the bags. After putting his own food away, Will collected the treats and opened the bag, wafting it behind him as he made his way back outside to collect his mail. While walking to the end of the drive, he handed out the treats, much to the delight of his pack. Each accepted the morsels gently and without fighting amongst themselves, their behavior as pristine as Will’s mood still managed to remain. He slowly made his way through half the bag before sending them on their way to do their business, the mailbox at the end of his drive finally within sight. 

Will made his way carefully over the icy ground, pulling open the metal door to collect the papers crammed within. His breath puffed out in visible plumes of smoke, the chill in the air freezing all the moisture in his lungs, a shiver cascading down his back. Clutching the mail in one gloved fist, he closed the mailbox door and pulled his beanie further down his ears to stave off the worst of the chill. By the time the pack and he made their way back to the house, Will’s cheeks felt icy and wind chaffed, his nose bright red, yet he couldn’t remember a time he had felt so good about being so cold. _It_ _’s the magic of the season,_ he told himself with a snort. _And I saw a shooting star last night. Maybe it took pity on me._ Tossing the mail onto the table, he unlaced his boots, depositing them on the floor in their usual spot by the door. He yanked off his coat and beanie, hanging them on the hooks above his boots before collecting the mail and padding into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

Will filled the copper kettle, setting it onto the bright blue flame of the stove. He retrieved his favorite mug, a large white affair with paw and nose prints of his childhood dog pressed in blue ink to the sides. A childish scrawl of the dog’s name, Maximus Graham, emblazoned the bottom of the mug. He set it on the counter and added a sachet of black tea to the bottom, tossing in a sugar cube for good measure. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he sorted the stack of mail by the trash can, tossing out adverts, a plea to feed children in third world countries for 18 cents a day, and a Christmas card from his dentist, setting aside a small stack of bills to deal with later. As he neared the bottom of the pile, a thick white envelope, much heavier than it initially appeared, slid from between a collection of grocery store specials, falling to the ground with a resounding thump. Will bent and picked it up, glancing at the front. His eyes snagged at the elegant script looping across the yellow sticky note that had been attached, his gaze widening at the words the note contained. 

Realization thundered through his chest, pulsing down his body in an electric cascade. Will’s breath trapped itself in his lungs, his heart ceased beating, his skin simultaneously cold and burning with heat as he read the words winding their way through his psyche to reach the part of his brain still anchored in the real world. 

_I_ _t can_ ' _t_ _be. There is no way it’s the same._

The sticky note, written in the same script as his name where it was scrawled possessively across the front of the envelope, read:

_You seem to have misplaced this when you fell asleep on our flight. I have taken the liberty of hand delivering it (so to speak) to ensure its contents finally reach you. I believe you will find it worthy of your attention._

_-HL_

Will read and reread the words, the two initials at the end twisting over and over around his heart, wrapping it carefully in the most fearful emotion he had felt in the many years he had been an adult: hope. The kettle began to shriek, bringing him forcefully back into the present, standing in the kitchen, his dogs in their spot by the window, the letter he thought he had lost clutched in his hand. A small, forced breath escaped his lungs, accompanied by a quiet, heartfelt moan that seemed to resonate throughout the space of his kitchen. He set the letter down with shaking hands to turn off the stove. Pouring water into his cup proved to be much more of a challenge when his hands were trembling so profusely, but he finally managed to get enough into the mug to suffice in serving as a drink. Without taking his eyes from the letter, Will dug through the remaining back on the counter until he found the packet of Oreos he had purchased. He snagged the letter and took them and his tea to the living room. The fire was crackling merrily as he tucked himself beneath his blanket, carefully pulling open the cookies to retrieve one. He bit into it, relishing at the sweet, chocolaty flavor, grounding himself in something he knew to be real. The normality of the action helped establish his current reality. The letter was still there, tucked beneath the packet of Oreos. Wiping his hands on his blanket, he reached for the envelope, turning it over to pull the back open. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he carefully pulled out the sheets of paper and began to read:

_Hello Will,_

_Even penning your name doesn’t help me with my decision as to where I should begin. I cannot believe I have found myself in a position to write a confession akin to a “dear John” letter, but I believe you are owed an explanation for my absence when you awaken. There are so many things that would be far easier to elucidate in person, but your reaction to my confession remains a mystery to me and I very much want you to have all the information I wish to share with you. It will ensure you can experience every range of emotion necessary to come to a clear headed choice on how you would like to proceed._

_I believe I am exacerbating the issue with my ominous introduction. Please understand that this is not at all how I want this letter to be interpreted. Let me begin, and let the chips fall where they may._

_I am not the complete stranger I allowed you to believe I am. Although it is likely that you are unfamiliar with me, that does not mean I do not know who you are and what you do for a living, or that I wasn’t aware of you before our fortuitous first face to face introduction. I should begin this tale by informing you that I am familiar with you because of your superior at the Bureau. Jack Crawford is the closest thing I have to a true friend in this world; our professional paths have had need to overlap for several years, and as time wore on, we have found the need to call upon the expertise of one another on a fairly regular basis. Throughout the years of our association, our relationship has evolved; we have acted as a sounding board for one another when determining the best course of action for the most difficult aspects of our professions, and over time, our lamentations lead to a truer friendship than I have known in my lifetime. No, this is not completely relevant to you, but it helps build the foundation for how I came to be in Chicago._

_When you were pulled back into the field for the Shrike case, Jack reached out to me with growing concerns to your mental and physical wellbeing. We had discussed you before, but only in a perfunctory generalization into the talents you possess. This occasion proved to be vastly different. He was distraught, convinced that by involving you in the worst of his cases, he was succeeding in pulling you down into the darkness that he is forced to traverse. He wants to use your considerable gifts, do not mistake that fact, but it eats at him that you have such a difficult time finding your way back out of the minds he forces you to excavate for the greater good. He knows its destroying you. It was after the Shrike that he asked for my assistance the first time; he wanted to my expertise in determining if you were to continue working for him, if you would be capable of finding your way back with your mind still intact. He believed at the time that it may be as simple as providing someone in whom you can confide, and at once wished me to become involved in your treatment. While I knew you by reputation, I did not know to what extent your empathy affects your day to day life._

_I will say with no lack of shame that when I was first approached, I did not believe I possessed the time or energy to dedicate to such an endeavor. I refused his request ourtright, satisfied that I had made the correct decision. When the next big case hit and it almost broke you, he asked again, but this time, the weight that held him in his request made me reconsider. In the end, I still refused. I did not see the benefit of becoming involved in the treatment of his pet empath, no matter how interesting the project might prove to be. I already had a full client list and was unsure if I wanted to take on the workload I believed your case would require. My envisioned best case scenario is that you didn’t fight treatment, but I believed you would. I let that logic guide my steadfast refusal, confident that you’d find the assistance you required in another._

_It wasn’t until six months later that the decision would be made for me. I’m sure you recall the case of the cello player turned into an instrument? It was then that I truly began to understand the extent of your gifts, and my enlightenment nearly cost me everything. I know you don’t remember me; that much is clear from our conversations during our brief time together, so let me enlighten you. You saved my life. The man responsible for the grisly murders and mutilations was directly involved with one of my patients, and had made it very clear that he wished to harm me. This particular patient, who will need to remain anonymous until we speak face to face, made it known to me that he had suspicions of the killer’s identity. He was almost too late with his information, but it seems good fortune was on my side. You made the connection of cat gut strings and his profession and arrested him before he had the opportunity to make his way to my office to harm me. My patient was, unfortunately, not so fortunate. I understand he was Tobias Budge’s last victim, and I was, from that moment on, deeply indebted to you._

_Your metal stability and physical wellbeing suddenly became very personal to me. You have unknowingly saved me from a fate I still have no desire to contemplate. You did not know me but you saved me. For that act, I owed you everything I had to give. I contacted Jack to inform him that I would be working to clear some space on my calendar so I could begin the process of convincing you to allow me to assist in your therapy. I requested that you weren’t yet made aware of his attempts to help, though. I wished to understand what kind of person you are, how you work. Your processes and how you think when you are yourself are very important to my ability to treat you, but if you knew you were being observed, you wouldn’t be your authentic self and I needed to see that aspect of you unhindered by the knowledge of my presence._

_Jack told me you were headed to Chicago to assist on a serial murder. I booked my flights without hesitation. I went to the crime scenes and from the crowd, observed you as much as I was able. You surprised me, Will. I still cannot fully comprehend what a force of nature you are when working on a scene. Your presence is… breathtaking; the way you handle yourself, the care you take in ensuring you understand the motives of the people you are attempting to capture, the lengths you’ll go to bring justice to those who have taken others from this world… you have no idea how remarkable you are, and it pains me greatly that you are so unaware. I studied each crime scene you read, watched how you became the person who committed the crimes. I understand your pain, the way it drains you on an emotional level to be taken down into the darkness. Fear is a powerful tool, and the perception of those who make a habit of causing fear in others is a gift with teeth that bite as deeply and as often as possible. You need someone to help balance the darkness, to pull you back from the precipices upon which you find yourself lost within places that do not belong to you._

_Much to my surprise, I’ve discovered that I would like to be that person. I knew that I had preparations to make if I were to convince you that I could help. I booked my flight home when the case concluded, completely unaware we had been on the same unfortunate plane that had been grounded. Our meeting in the hotel lobby was purely coincidence, but I soon discovered that I had a unique opportunity to get to know you without the weight of my career encumbering me. I saw you standing there, miserable, cold and alone, and I suddenly wanted to reach out to you as a man, not as your potential psychiatrist. I do not need to tell you that you are a very attractive man, but your eyes… they held sorrow like an overfull cup, brimming with so much emotion that I couldn’t help but get lost in their depths. I have not felt the pull of another person in more than a decade, but the instant our eyes met, I wanted you. Not just sex; relief is easily procured, especially in a large city. I wanted intimacy, and I saw the same need in your eyes as they met mine, the fire that burned inside of you for someone to understand. I knew I would need to proceed with caution, but every moment spent in your presence was the most exquisite torture I have ever had the pleasure of enduring._

_In the interest of brutal honesty, I want you to know that I heard your passions as you took out your fantasies on your own flesh in the shower. The walls of every hotel are very thin, but I was already so attuned to you that I could feel everything you were experiencing, even as I listened, dumbstruck that you were as driven to act upon your need. Every stroke across your skin, every labored breath seemed to resonate within me. I wanted nothing more than to open the bathroom door and join you beneath the water. Replace your hands with my own, slake your need, taste you, take you. I wanted to lose myself in your scent, your cries of pleasure. It took every ounce of my considerable self control to remain seated at the desk, penning the introduction of this letter, considering all the human part of me wanted to do was make you mine. By the time you read this, I can only guess that my desires will have exponentially increased. I want to see your mouth fall open in ecstasy. I want to know what your skin tastes like. I want to kiss you, Will. I don’t fully understand why I find myself so enraptured with you, but you are in my very bones, and I have every intention of finding out what will happen by making my desire for you crystal clear._

_Should you choose to read this letter and understand my motives and desires, I will be waiting patiently for you to contact me. My phone number can be found below. You are welcome to reach out to me at any time, and I will make time to respond as soon as I am available. I understand that the breadth of my reaction when we haven’t so much as touched may seem excessive, but I saw my own desires echoed back to me within the depths of your gaze. I have every belief that we could be something truly great if given the chance. I can help heal the wounds your work inflicts upon you in a much more satisfying manner than most of my patients ever experience, and I believe you will bring back some of the humanity that seems to have left me in the years that have passed. Its something about myself I am finding I sorely miss._

_I am contacting Jack to inform him of my intentions towards you. Should you wish to pursue healing without the emotional strings attached, I am still fully willing and capable of taking you on as a patient. I believe that, even without the element of intimacy between us, I can help you. I’d very much like the opportunity to try. I shall not attempt to contact you until you reach out. I can be patient, especially with the possibility of the reward that awaits us._

_Until we meet again, you will be on my mind and in my heart._

_Hannibal Lecter_

Will flipped to the final page, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

_Addendum: I find the need to add one more thing to this letter to you. You slept in my arms last night. I do not know how it came to be, but when I awoke this morning to make my way to our flight, you were wrapped against my chest as if we slept in such a fashion every night of our lives. I hope you understand that, if given the chance, I will cherish you, Will. It was physically painful to leave you this morning. I have every confidence that you will understand why I let you have some space before approaching you, but I cannot do anything but hope that I hear from you soon._

_Safe travels. Although we will be separated by mere feet, it will feel like miles._

_Yours,_   
_HL_

Will’s tea had gone cold as he read the words written to him, a confession filled with passion and longing and so much hope, it made his heart swell as it pounded against his ribs. Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, Will retrieved his phone and thumbed in a message, double checking it before sending a text to the number Hannibal had provided at the bottom of his letter. He reread his message, deleted it completely, then typed it in again. _Simple. Don_ _’t rush it. We have all the time in the world._

[03:18PM] **Hello, Doctor Lecter. I got your letter.**

Unwilling to watch the screen, Will picked up the letter and began reading it again, the curled loops that made up the words that resonated beneath his skin and into his very being, tightening themselves around his heart. He read every phrase in Hannibal’s voice, willing the sentiments to be true, to be real. _Please, shooting star. Please. Let him be my miracle._


	6. Everywhere in You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who reads these stories for their patience. I developed a horrible cold on New Years Day and am just now completely over it, so my stories didn't get updated while I was in bed. I hope you find this chapter, the second to last in this year's winter advent, worth the wait. The last chapter couldn't be rushed, especially since you've all waited this long. 
> 
> Regular updates to all other stories will occur as normal beginning tonight.
> 
> Hearts and body parts,  
> JM

_Meeting you wasn’t a coincidence._   
_It was a miracle._   
_-Anonymous_

* * *

Will’s phone chimed quietly from its place on the kitchen table, breaking him out of his perusal of his conversations with Hannibal over the past few days, conversations that had continued in earnest ever since he found the letter and Hannibal’s phone number. Giving the dough on his counter a final punch, he picked up the warm ball and placed it back into the bowl, covering it with a damp towel. _Another half hour and it can go in the oven. Perfect timing._ He wiped his hands on the apron wrapped around his slim waist before picking up his phone, a small smile playing on his lips. _Speaking of perfect timing._

[02:30PM] _Hello, Will. I trust you slept better last night?_

[02:41PM] **Hi Hannibal. I slept better, thanks for asking. No nightmares, thank god. I actually don** **’t remember my dreams at all, which is a rare blessing.**

[02:43PM] _Excellent to hear, Did you happen to have a chance to try the tea I had delivered yet? I think you_ _’ll find it to your liking._

[02:46PM] **I got the tea in yesterday, thank you. I meant to ask you about where you found it, but it was pretty late by the time I finished my cup. Almond you were saying, right? I never thought I** **’d enjoy tea made with alternative ingredients, but there was something strikingly unique and almost comforting about it. Like drinking an embrace.**

[02:48PM] _Do not be concerned over when you choose to contact me. You are under no obligation to do so. You are correct- the tea I chose for you is almond based. I have found unique flavor combinations over the years that have proven to be rather irresistible, especially when they can be shared with enthusiasm._

[02:52PM] **I greatly appreciate your excellent taste. I had two cups last night and a third this morning with breakfast, so suffice to say you** **’ve found another person who can take pleasure in your apparent knowledge of and delight in such things. I look forward to discovering other things to which you can introduce me.**

[03:01PM] _As I look forward to the introduction. Speaking of discoveries and delights, are you still comfortable celebrating the end of your year with me? I spoke to Jack today and he informed me that you are on something of a hiatus. I do not wish to interrupt your well earned reprieve from face to face contact. Alas, if that is your decision, I_ _’m afraid you’ll still be forced to endure my digital company throughout the rest of your time off._

[03:11PM] **I** **’m looking forward to the interruption, Hannibal. Believe me, although I love my dogs, I haven’t seen another human being in four days. I don’t need to be given the option to continue my hermit-like behavior, no matter how much I need the reset. Are you still okay with 8? Do I need to bring anything?**

[03:14PM] _Just yourself. Perhaps that book you brought up. The collection of poetry you were discussing with me before you nodded off two nights ago? It sounds intriguing._

[03:28pm] **Spoon River Anthology? Of course. I** **’ve already got it set aside. Far be it from me to deny you another dose of macabre prose, although it’s still wild that you’ve never read it.**

[03:37PM] _I believe we will find many things about one another that surprise us over the course of our association. Choices in literature aside._

[04:13PM] **You** **’re probably right. It’s still crazy, though. How much we actually have in common. Anyway, I’m sure you’re busy producing this four course meal you kept going on about. I’m already looking forward to it.**

[04:24PM] _Much of the preparation was handled beforehand to ensure I would have time to converse with you throughout the day. However, if you find that you have obligations that must be seen to, do not let me keep you._

[04:38PM] **You know I** **’m not doing much except taking care of the dogs. My days at home have consisted of poring over your letter, texting you, reading, and dealing with my pack. Any hint to the menu this evening?**

[04:51PM] _Never ask the chef the menu unless proffered, Will. It spoils the surprise._

[05:01PM] **Ha. I knew you** **’d say something like that. Should I adhere to a dress code for the evening?**

[05:09PM] _There is nothing that you could show up wearing to which I would be adverse. If you would like some direction though, I_ _’d be happy to offer some opinions._

[05:15PM] **That isn** **’t helpful in the least. I guess I’ll just have to surprise you, then.**

[05:19PM] _The notion that you agreed to come tonight was surprise enough. Come with the idea that I_ _’d like you to stay for some time, so comfort should be kept in mind when selecting your attire._

[05:22PM] **Should I be packing my pajamas and a toothbrush? ;)**

[05:28PM] _Perhaps. While I have no expectations, I’d like you to be prepared to make an evening of tonight, especially if we consume enough alcohol that you are forced to remain until morning._

[05:36PM] _I am also not adverse to the idea of you asleep in my home. I hope that is okay with you._

[05:40PM] **Such a gentleman. I’ll bring the essentials. See you tonight.**

***

Will straightened his collar, nervously pulling at the material beneath the soft wool of his scarf, wondering if his penchant for punctuality made him seem as needy as he suddenly felt _._ His choice of attire had seemed warm enough when he left the house, but now that he’d been standing in the cold for the last few minutes, waiting until the appropriate time to knock, he had to admit that choosing attire for aesthetics was better done when he arrived when he was supposed to. _Next time I think I should wear a thicker sweater, even if it_ _’s not the perfect color,_ he thought, shivering. _I_ _’ll choose warmth over vanity._ But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. He knew very well why he had chosen the deep blue v neck sweater that clung to his torso, the new pair of jeans that were tighter than any other pair he owned, why he had taken extra time in the shower, calming his nerves beneath the hot spray of water. He knew why he had made an attempt to style his hair, why his shoes shone like mirrors from his meticulous efforts at polishing them. 

He wanted to make a good impression on the man who had already managed to imprint himself on Will’s psyche, brand him to his very bones. _I want him to be as taken with me as I seem to be with him. If I can do it with something as simple as how I dress, so be it._

Will ran a hand through his curls, thoroughly undoing any styling he had managed. Just as he reached to knock a second time, the door swung open to reveal a low lit but invitingly warm living space. Hannibal stood at the door, wearing an apron over his well cut black jeans, deep maroon shirt gleaming against his skin. The sleeves had been rolled up to reveal the enticing flex of muscle of his forearms. The view was enough to shut Will’s brain down completely. Instead he stared, unwilling and unable to think or move. Hannibal smiled, his eyes crinkling warmly around the edges. Stepping away from the door’s entrance, he gestured with the wine bottle in his hand.

“Hello, Will. Please, come in. You’re right on time.” Will’s legs moved of their own accord, propelling him forward into the inviting space. Hannibal closed and locked the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world with the twist of a dead bolt. Will’s stomach fluttered with anticipation, his mouth dry from the nervous energy coursing through his body. It didn’t help in the least when Hannibal set the bottle of wine on the table near the door and turned back to Will, his pleasure plain on his face. He reached forward, placing his hands gently on the tops of Will’s shoulders. The profiler barely suppressed a shudder, every hair at the back of his neck standing on end. _God, what have I gotten myself into? I can_ _’t even control myself with the slightest amount of contact. This man has held me while I slept, and now I can’t suppress my reactions when he’s not even touching skin. How the hell am I going to make it through the night?_

“May I take your coat?” Hannibal asked, already tugging at the fabric at Will’s shoulders. “You’re welcome to remove your shoes as well, if you’d like. You won’t need them anytime soon.” Will nodded, transferring the book he held from one hand to the other as the material came away. Hannibal hung the coat on an empty hook in the hall, one that seemed to be purposefully left open for company. Placing the book on the same table Hannibal had deposited the wine, he untied his shoes and slid them in the open space beneath his coat. Hannibal smiled reassuringly and picked up the wine, brushing past him on the way back towards the interior of the house. Abandoning the book for the time being, Will followed at a slower pace, taking in his surroundings as he moved to join his host. 

The house was opulent and purposefully minimal; clean, modern lines and plenty of wood and metal made up the furniture, the couches made of overstuffed cushions encased in plush, soft leather in creams and browns. The main floor was open and inviting, one wall taken up entirely with several of shelves housing books. Large pieces of subdued abstract artwork took up the expansive walls, giving the entire home an air of hospitable warmth. Will liked the place immediately. _Feels like a home, not just a house. Like the man who lives here went out of his way to create a space where people want to stay._

Will looked up to find Hannibal staring at him from the kitchen, a small smile playing on his lips as he twisted a corkscrew into the bottle he had carried through the house. Flushing bright red, Will closed the distance between them with a nervous grin, taking a seat on one of the soft cream barstools in front of the counter Hannibal stood working. 

“Sorry. I was just taking in my surroundings. You have a beautiful home.” Hannibal’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling around the edges, warming to the color of blood and gold. _God, I could get lost in those eyes. I_ _’ve never seen anything like them._

“Thank you, Will,” he replied, setting the bottle on the counter to retrieve a crystal decanter which stood waiting behind him. “I will give you a tour later, so you can see the rest of the house.” They stared at one another for a long moment, the air crackling with anticipatory energy, before Hannibal cleared his throat, dropping his eyes to his work. “Dinner is almost finished. I only need to plate our meals. If you’d like to take the wine through and seat yourself in the dining room, I’ll bring them through in just a moment.” Will swallowed hard and nodded, sliding from the barstool to maneuver through the brightly lit kitchen to the dining room. Trying very hard to prevent himself from being intimidated by the sumptuous décor of Hannibal’s table, he took a seat and folded his napkin across his lap, unsurprised to find himself half hard. He reached for the crystal decanter and poured them each a glass of wine, grateful that the deep red liquid was no longer contained within the bottle in which it was purchased. _Saves me from looking up the cost later, just to see how much he_ _’s trying to impress._ He watched with hooded eyes as Hannibal walked into the room carrying two bone china plates with delicate morsels artfully arranged atop their surfaces. His heart pounded hard at the cut of the doctor’s slacks, the bunch of his thigh muscles as he strode smoothly into the room. Willing himself enough composure to keep from embarrassment during their meal, he focused on the plate as it was set in front of him instead.

Hannibal took his seat, noting the tenting of the linen napkin with a deep and desperate pleasure. _As it should be when there is so much left unfinished between us._ He took a deep breath and raised his eyes and his glass to his guest, a bubble of happiness forming in his chest at the calm contentment in Will’s gaze. 

“To what shall we toast, Will?” he asked, his voice pitched low in his throat. Will shifted in his chair, the catch in his throat audible as he tried to bring himself under composure. _Mm. A little discomfort to remind yourself how much you are affected. Would it interest you, I wonder, to know I am equally affected?_

“I’d say health and happiness…” Will started, his words absorbed by the crackling of the fireplace. The very light seemed to pulse, taking in his energy as he spoke. Hannibal’s pupils swelled as he watched his guest try to formulate the words he wanted to speak. 

“Perhaps, for both our sakes, you should speak plainly,” he murmured, watching Will’s eyes. The profiler hesitated for a moment longer before clearing his throat. Resolutely lifting his glass, he stared boldly into Hannibal’s warm maroon gaze.

“To the man that created this incredible meal,” he replied, touching his glass to Hannibal’s. “And to all the possibilities tonight offers.” Hannibal hid his smile with a sip of wine. _To all the possibilities, indeed._

***

“Holy hell, you know how to feed someone. I haven’t eaten that well in… probably ever.” Hannibal smiled, leaning back into his chair. The menu he had prepared, while small in portions, had been carefully selected morsels designed to be eaten primarily with the hands. While the mess was not to his liking, his delight in watching Will in the context of his table superseded his desire for clean hands. It had also allowed him to feed Will selections from their dishes. Although he had been careful to refrain from touching the profiler’s skin as they ate, it had been exciting to be so near to him in such an intimate fashion. The desire to caress the other man’s bottom lip as he offered a bite from his plate had been very nearly overwhelming, but he had managed to hang tightly to the remainder of his composure throughout the four courses he served them. 

Will’s flush had deepened at the bottom of his wineglass, his pupils swelling to encompass his irises by the consumption of the second. He had reached for Hannibal as often as the other man reached for him, finding thinly veiled excuses to touch as their meal wore on. By the time dessert had been delivered to the table, Will had nearly melted into his seat, his smile playful and fond as they continued their discussions from earlier in the week. Hannibal found himself wholly unprepared for just how affecting the profiler was, especially now that he was once again within his grasp. _If only you knew, if you could understand how long I_ _’ve wanted to see you like this. How much I still want._ A lull in the conversation allowed him to clear his throat, banishing the thoughts creeping through his fevered mind.

“Shall we continue this conversation in the living room? There are blankets on the couch and I have selected a bottle of scotch for our toast for the new year.” Will nodded and stood, picking up the plates from the table. He followed Hannibal to the kitchen, depositing the dishes into the water filled sink with a soft resounding clink. Turning to Hannibal, he smiled mischievously. Hannibal’s heart thudded hard at the look in his eyes as he tried desperately to control his breathing. _Have you any idea how delectable you appear in this moment, you wonderful man?_

“Don’t think that just because they aren’t being done at this moment that I’ll allow you to wash the dishes,” he warned Hannibal, his eyes sparkling at the other man’s surprise. “I was raised to do the dishes when another cooks for you,” he explained, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “While it isn’t happening right now, because I want to sit on the couch with you, it will happen and I won’t hear a word about it.” Hannibal nodded gravely.

“Of course, Will,” he said, his voice resonating with mock sincerity. “I wouldn’t dream of encroaching on your values.” Will laughed and followed him into the dimly lit room, another fire filling the space with a warmth akin to sinking into a hot bath. Hannibal took up one side of the couch, gesturing for Will to do the same. After a moment’s hesitation, instead of taking a seat at the other side, Will leaned down and pushed at Hannibal’s legs until the doctor parted them for him. Watching Hannibal’s face for any signs of discomfort, he sank into the space made for him, wrapping the blanket around himself. Hannibal’s arms came up to encircle his body, drawing him back until Will’s back was flush with his chest. Pressing his lips lightly to Will’s curls, Hannibal adjusted the blanket until they were both comfortably tucked beneath it, the only sound filling the room the crackling of the fire. Will shifted in his arms, making himself comfortable before emitting a small sigh of what sounded very close to relief. Hannibal’s heart ached with the _rightness_ he felt, the feeling that the world had suddenly righted itself with Will in his arms. _Back where you belong. Where you are meant to be._

“I haven’t yet poured you a drink,” he murmured into Will’s temple, his lips caressing the soft, warm skin as he breathed in the profiler’s sweet, woodsy scent. Will shuddered at the contact, his face tilting back to stare sleepily into Hannibal’s eyes. The watched one another without speaking, letting their pulses settle into the quiet of the room and the animal contact of their skin.

“This may surprise you,” Will finally said, “but I don’t give a damn about another drink. I would much rather just enjoy…” he leaned his head back into the crook of the doctor’s shoulder, “this.” Hannibal’s hands drifted up to cup the profiler’s shoulders, his thumbs caressing the skin of his neck. Will made a small, soft noise and tilted his head, giving Hannibal both permission and better access to continue his careful explorations of Will’s body. His hands tingled with the sudden rush and realization that Will was, in fact, in his home, in his arms and content to be exactly where he was. _I wouldn_ _’t change a moment of what we share. I just want you to be comfortable with me. Let me give you what you desire._

They spent long minutes as they were, the fire popping merrily in the fireplace as Hannibal’s hands found their way beneath Will’s collar to brush along the tops of his shoulders, thumbs gently pressing into the tension held within them. Will’s head lolled to the side, his quiet noises of contentment nothing short of music to Hannibal’s ears. Their conversation picked up where it had left off at the dinner table, shared between them in the lulling stretches of time where the silence grew too large. The words they spoke minimized the moment, let it shrink back into something manageable for them both as they drew inexorably closer. Hannibal eventually leaned forward to pour them drinks, a small toast shared between them as they tasted the smooth and fiery liquid, letting it warm them inside as their bodies warmed beneath the blanket. 

Will sank further into Hannibal’s arms, the hands that played along his shoulders drifting lower to caress his arms, raising goosebumps along his skin. Hannibal kept his movements slow and methodical, gentle sweeps of fingertips along warm, soft skin, letting Will enjoy the sensation of being touched while he indulged himself in the act of touching the other man. As long minutes wore into late hours, his fingers stole beneath the hem of Will’s sweater to dance along Will’s well defined stomach. Will’s breath caught in his throat at the sensation of being caressed so intimately; it took every ounce of self restraint he possessed to keep from moaning when Hannibal’s hands finally touched bare skin; the sensation was so sharply good that it stole his breath, tightened his stomach in delightful arousal. _Please. Oh, god. Please touch me. I need it._

“May I ask you something?” Hannibal asked, his lips caressing the sensitive skin along Will’s neck. Will, shivering in his arms, nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Hannibal smiled against his throat, pleased.

“It’s perhaps a more personal question than you are expecting.” Will swallowed audibly, trying to bring his thoughts back to something resembling coherence.

“Ask, Hannibal,” he murmured. “I have nothing to hide from you.” The doctor’s fingers continued their quest along his skin beneath the blanket, relegating themselves to stroke the soft flesh of his stomach. Will’s nerves hummed with sensation, his skin tingling. _Please. Just don_ _’t stop. God in heaven, please don’t stop touching me. I need it._

“When was the last time you were able to indulge in an evening such as this?” the doctor asked, his fingertips gliding along the waistband of Will’s jeans. Will sucked in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth to trap another helpless moan. _God almighty, I am not going to last much longer if he keeps this up._

“An evening-” another gentle stroke brought his head back against Hannibal’s shoulder as a shudder wracked his body. He could feel Hannibal’s satisfaction at his reaction as deeply as he felt the caress of the other man’s fingers along his skin. Hannibal was very obviously enjoying his ability to derail Will’s train of thought.

“Mm,” came a low murmur in his ear. “An evening where you could relax in another’s arms, let the worries of the world drift away into nothing while you, instead, allowed yourself to be slowly and thoroughly seduced?” Will turned to face the other man, his face carefully schooled into a picture of neutrality.

“Are you seducing me, Hannibal?” he asked, his voice low and breathy with need. Hannibal’s stomach tightened at the sound; he instantly wanted more. He wanted to know what Will would sound like beneath him, how his mouth would taste. He wanted his pleasure, to watch ecstasy wrack across the profiler’s handsome features as he struggled to keep himself under control. He wanted it more than he wanted to breathe.

“I believe I am trying to do so,” he responded roughly. Will’s pupils swelled, his gaze dropping to Hannibal’s mouth. It was almost impossible to keep from licking his lips in response to the blatant stare. Will glanced at his watch, a slow smile taking over his features.

“You have about twenty minutes to explain to me exactly what you want,” he murmured. Hannibal’s eyebrows drew together in confusion for a moment until the day came rushing back to his logic starved brain. _Of course he would wait until the precise moment. How apt._

“You’d like to know exactly what I want from you, then?” he asked, watching Will’s face fill with color.

“Not precisely what you want tonight, perhaps. I’d rather experience that firsthand.” Hannibal’s heart thrashed against his ribs at the confession. _And how I wish to give you everything you want, darling._

“How about you elaborate on the part of your letter where you wanted to join me in the shower of the hotel we stayed in?” Will asked, bringing him back into the present. Hannibal took a deep breath and reached for his scotch. Taking a small, fortifying sip, he met Will’s waiting gaze.

“You want to know what I wished to do to you while we were so fortuitously ensconced within the same room, mere strangers for all of your knowledge?” he replied, drawing Will back against his body. Will nodded, his eyes falling closed at their proximity. _Jesus, how can one man, someone I barely know, be simultaneously so comfortable and more enticing than anyone I_ _’ve ever known? How is this happening?_

“Very well,” Hannibal breathed, his lips caressing Will’s ear. “Would it please you to know that I thought of your body before I heard the sounds you were making beneath the water? You’re a very striking man, Will.” His hands found their way around Will’s stomach beneath the blanket, stroking his body through the sweater. “There is something wonderfully enticing about your form, the way you carry yourself. Stripping away the clothing covering you, getting my hands on your skin… I wanted it very much.” The hand continued to travel along Will’s stomach, up his chest in tingling waves.

“Had I known it would be welcome, I would have enjoyed surprising you beneath the torrent of water,” the doctor continued, his long, nimble fingers tracing idle patterns along Will’s chest. “Turned out the lights, stealing away your vision so your other senses would be heightened. So you would feel every caress, every stroke, every gentle press of teeth. I wanted to press you to the tiles, claim your mouth first. I have long dreamed of the way your lips feel, of the way you taste.” Hannibal’s hand reached to trace Will’s lower lip. It took everything in him to keep from kissing the thumb that skated across his skin. _I need to wait. Let him seduce me._

“I have an almost infinite amount of patience, but when it comes to you, its often tested,” Hannibal confessed, stroking Will’s lower lip. “I simultaneously craved your pleasure and ached to release my own within you. I wanted you, Will, in a way I have not wanted anyone in longer than I care to remember. Likely, at least in the best of my fantasies in which I have indulged since we have been conversing, I’d like to take both at once; give you pleasure and take my own in you.” Will swallowed and adjusted his position on the couch in an attempt to release the pressure on his throbbing erection. _I should have worn looser jeans,_ he lamented. _I_ _’m not going to survive this._

“How do you propose to do that?” he breathed. Hannibal’s lips curved into a smile against the shell of his ear, bringing another wave of shuddering pleasure cascading across his skin.

“In that instance, stroke your already very prominent erection, the one you would have already been working when I joined you,” Hannibal whispered. The words went straight to the cock in question, making Will throb helplessly against the heavy material of his jeans. _God, please let me have some restraint._

“Stroke you to the point of begging me to take you,” Hannibal continued, his voice velvet over steel. “Then working you open, massaging your opening, pressing in when you were ready for me. First one,” he murmured, pressing a digit lightly against Will’s chest. “Then two, then three.” With each increasing number came the additional press of fingers. Will’s body throbbed with need, feeling the fingers in places that hadn’t been touched in longer than he cared to think about. It had been years since he had been with a man, and in that time, longer still since he had taken. The thought both excited and filled him with a kind of terrified wonder. _I want it. I want you. Everything you_ _’ll give me._

“When I knew you were ready, my fingers would slide free from you so I could fill you in other ways,” Hannibal murmured, kissing the shell of Will’s ear. “Fill you and take my pleasure in the way you felt around me, the knowledge that I had you within my grasp at long last.” Will squeezed his closed eyes, his cock throbbing painfully with need. 

“And while I fucked you, I’d stroke your cock, surround you with my fingers so I could fuck you through them. I would have fucked you until you came for me, then taken my pleasure in your pleasure. I have endless amounts of patience. It could have taken as long as necessary, but I would have had your orgasm across my hands before I allowed myself sweet release.” Will’s breath caught in his throat, his stomach muscles quivering in helpless arousal. He had stopped breathing for almost a full minute, hypnotized by the words pouring filthily into his ear. He suddenly gasped a breath, his lungs filling with air. He could feel himself harden, press against the heavy fabric of the jeans he wore. Had he not been so turned on, it would have proven painful. As it was, the pressure only added to the sensations with which he had inadvertently surrounded himself. _Fuck. Why did I start this game? There is no way I_ _’m going to last the last twenty minutes._

Hannibal’s tongue flashed out to trace the shell of his ear, his hand making its way to his neck. Gently, he gripped Will’s jaw, turning his face until their gazes met. Hannibal’s eyes were filled with warmth and firelight, the maroon irises deep pools of molten flames. They looked as if Will could sink into them, fall forever in the grip of emotion displayed within. Hannibal leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, their breath mingling in the small space. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it between them. Will’s eyes shuttered closed, his entire being reaching for the man before him.

“And when we had finished, I would have helped you shower, held you beneath the torrent. Massaged your back for you, dried you with a towel and helped you dress. Then taken you to bed and held you while you slept. Perhaps we would have left together, sat together on the plane.” Will’s heart thumped at the sincerity in Hannibal’s voice, the words now shared more intimate than any of the others he had managed to speak.

“Even then, I wanted to know you very much,” Hannibal continued, his voice as deep as the firelight. “Even before I was sent to Chicago, I wanted to make you aware of who you are to me, of how much I have been waiting for the right moment to introduce myself. I didn’t expect it to be given in Chicago.” Hannibal’s words breathed across Will’s face, somehow making them more real, more visceral than they were when he was speaking in his ear. _You can_ _’t escape words that melt across your skin. They leave their mark, cling to the senses, sink into your bones._

“And when we met in the hotel? What did you want then?” he asked, hardly daring to hope. _Please. Please let it be true._

“Look at me, Will.” The command was soft, but undeniable. Will opened his eyes, slowly raising his gaze to meet the soft, bloodstained eyes staring at him with unconcealed desire and affection. The hand at his face tightened, tilting his mouth upwards. They breathed, staring at one another for a moment. Somewhere in the distance, what sounded like a grandfather clock chimed, counting down the hour that had somehow reached them without Will’s knowledge. Hannibal’s gaze drifted down his face, reaching and snagging on his mouth. Will held his breath, waiting.

“I wanted the same thing I want now,” he whispered, leaning closer. Their lips met just as the final chime sounded, a unbearably soft brush of satiny skin. Will’s heart seemed to stop with his breath, a resounding thud in his chest that died away in the rush of the gentle contact. His entire world narrowed to where their mouths sealed, the kiss creating a line of the past and the present in his world. Nothing existed before this moment, and everything that would be built after would have this moment as a foundation. 

They came apart moments later, breathing harder than they should have been for the brevity of the kiss. Will’s heart hammered against his ribs in a painful reminder to breathe, but he reached for the man before him, bringing their mouths together in another heated press. Hannibal’s hands cupped his face reverently as the second kiss broke, holding him in place as they panted.

“Happy New Year, Will,” he breathed, his hands digging into Will’s curls. In response, Will climbed into his lap, and pressed him to the couch cushions. 

“Make it happy, Hannibal,” he whispered, eyes flashing in the firelight. Hannibal smiled gently and pulled him closer.

“Let me show you just how happy you can be.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, he wrapped his arms beneath Will’s thighs and carried him through the darkened house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a quick note: January 1st marked the 6 month mark that I've been writing fiction within this fandom. I wrote down the statistics on that day so I could remember just how far I've come in such a short amount of time.
> 
> I've written nearly a half a million words within 36 stories, and posted them here for you guys to read. You've enjoyed them enough to gift me over 5,000 kudos, more than 500 comments, and my stories have been bookmarked over 1100 times. They've been read over 60,000 times over the past 6 months. 
> 
> I am beyond grateful and so incredibly humbled that you have enjoyed the things I write enough to give me such high praise. When I posted my first story, I never thought I'd be to the point where I am now. I have enjoyed some of my favorite conversations with people just from getting to know them from their comments. I am beyond thankful for each and every one of you who has taken the time to read what I post, even if you don't comment or leave kudos. Knowing you're reading is a truly wonderful gift.
> 
> I can't wait to see what 2021 brings for our favorite murder husbands. I look forward to giving you more of what you love, and will continue to bring a little joy, a little murder, and a lot of love to each and every one of you. Thank you for making the second half of 2020 so memorable. I hope you continue to love what I post in the months to come.
> 
> Love you all and happy (belated as it might be) New Year,  
> JM


	7. Winter Miracles

_Your lips touching mine is_   
_How galaxies collide._

* * *

The sound of water splashing against the marble of the tub was almost unbearably loud. Will stood in the center of the en suite, shivering as he waited for the bath to fill, his mind blissfully blank. Although achingly tired, his body spent, there wasn’t a doubt that he’d be in far worse shape if he didn’t soak, at least for a short time. _I_ _’m not as young as I used to be,_ he thought wryly _. Water will do some good._

The temperature in the room began to climb; the combination of steam and soft candlelight made the space ethereal, dreamlike. Will’s thoughts drifted and snagged, floating away in a haze of memories. The food, the company, their conversation on the couch before retiring to the bedroom. Part of him still couldn’t believe it had finally happened; their quiet, shy conversations from the past week had proved Hannibal to be old world charming, funny and fond, but being with him in his home, his arms… he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. 

Their lovemaking was beyond any physical intimacy he’d ever experienced. When Hannibal had carried him to bed, Will had expected things to proceed with some sense of urgency, but it had taken the doctor almost a half hour to remove Will’s clothing. Every part of his body that had been revealed had been worshiped; fingers caressing as if Hannibal couldn’t believe he’d been allowed to touch, mouth following in the wake of his exploratory stroking. His lips tasted the back of Will’s knees. His tongue had dipped satisfyingly into his quivering stomach muscles. He’d laved along his hipbones, rasped his lips on Will’s stubble. It felt like he was being savored, slowly devoured. He never wanted it to stop.

When Hannibal had eased inside him, hands pinning his arms above his head as they rocked together, it had taken every scrap of self control Will possessed not to come on the spot. It had been more years than he could recall since he’d been taken. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he felt aching stretch Hannibal’s thick cock deep inside, filling him to bursting over and over until he had begged breathlessly to come. Their kisses had branded his soul, marking him deeper than his flesh, burning through the memories of every kiss he’d ever experienced like flash paper. As in all things, Hannibal remained in complete control; whispering endearments, stroking fingers through his hair, murmuring to him how warm he was inside. They moved together as if it were the first and the thousandth time they’d made love, their climaxes so close together, they were part of the same deep breath.

Even when they came apart, Hannibal pulled him close, his fingers shaking as they massaged his scalp. Will wasn’t sure how long they’d lain amongst the wreck of the doctor’s bed, talking quietly as their pulses settled. It could have been minutes or hours; time no longer mattered. When Hannibal suggested a bath, complete with the champagne he’d meant for their New Year’s toast, Will had enthusiastically agreed. They’d lit the candles together, using long wooden matches that somehow charmed Will even more than he already was. Hannibal’s bathtub was huge; a sunken pale grey marble affair obviously meant for two. Before he could stop himself, Will asked the other man about it. Hannibal simply smiled and reached to brush a stray curl from his eyes.

“I had it built when I moved to Baltimore,” he explained. “I enjoy the water very much, and often spend many hours submerged within its depths.” He’d taken Will’s face in his hands, holding his gaze gently within his own. “If you are asking if I have shared it with another, darling… the answer is no. I have never had the desire until tonight.” He brushed his lips against Will’s, settling their mouths into a gentle, emotional kiss. Will’s heartbeat had settled, his emotions assuaged. _Didn_ _’t want to share until he had me. I’m worth taking up the other half of his bath._ With a promise of a swift return, Hannibal disappeared into the kitchen in search of their champagne. Will let the scent of the candles burning around him ease through his senses, relaxing him as he waited.

The doctor returned just as the tub finished filling, carrying a bottle of champagne, a bowl of fresh strawberries and Will’s copy of Spoon River Anthology. Eyebrow raised, Will moved forward to claim the bowl, surprised at its considerable weight.

“Jesus, what is this thing made from?” he asked with a laugh. Hannibal gave him a small smile. They set down the items he’d rescued from the rest of the house, making sure they’d be within reach once they settled. Hannibal turned and reached for Will’s hands, helping him step into the water.

“It’s Lithuanian crystal,” he replied as Will sank beneath the steam. “One of the only pieces I have from my family’s estate in Lithuania. I don’t use it often, but the strawberries are far to lovely to be relegated to a traditional bowl and it feels right to celebrate this year with beauty.” Will smiled and held out a hand, helping Hannibal step over the edge of the cool marble.

“That’s actually kind of incredible. Now get in here so I don’t feel like I need to start swimming laps.” Hannibal grinned lowered himself into the tub, using Will’s hands to steady himself. The water swirled around them, warming their skin as it eased the aches from their tired muscles. Hannibal reached forward and snagged Will’s arm, pulling him back until he could relax against the firm planes of his chest. Their legs tangled beneath the water; Hannibal’s toes stroked fondly down the slope of the profiler’s calf. Will rested his head on Hannibal’s chest with a sigh.

“Tell me about Lithuania,” he begged. “What was it like moving to the US after living in Europe? It had to be such a change.” Hannibal held him beneath the water, and hummed, thinking of the best way to reply.

“I do not remember much of my early childhood. The country remains as much a mystery to me as it must seem to you. I spent a great deal of my time in boarding school, only sent home for short periods of time. I took to travel as an adult, and settled in Italy for a time.” His hands stroked through Will’s curls. “I have few memories of my months at home. I have since made a life here, and I would change nothing. I was provided opportunities by my family, but did not know them very well.” He reached over the side of the tub and produced a strawberry, holding it to Will’s lips.

“Open for me, darling.” Heart thudding hard against his ribs, Will opened his mouth. Hannibal stroked the berry against his lips before allowing him to take a bite. The sweet juice burst from the berry, down Will’s chin and throat. Quick as a cat, Hannibal followed the line with his tongue before holding the fruit within reach for Will to finish. The sensual feeding felt like foreplay; Hannibal squeezed a berry between his fingers, letting the juice flow down his wrist. Will held his heated gaze as he licked the doctor’s hand clean.

“I don’t know how I can thank you for tonight,” he murmured against Hannibal’s skin. “Everything about you exceeds any expectations I could possibly have had about you.” Hannibal’s hands came up to cup his shoulders, long fingers wrapping gently around the muscle. His thumbs dug gently into the tender flesh at the base of his neck. Will’s entire body groaned; the tension he always seemed to hold was carefully discovered and released into the water by the doctor’s clever hands.

“May I ask what you were expecting?” Hannibal’s breath tickled his ear. Will suppressed the sudden spike of arousal. It cascaded down his spine, raising goosebumps to his arms. _Christ, we spent hours wrapped in ecstasy and I already want you again._

“I had no real expectations. I knew from our messages this week that we’d enjoy ourselves.” His words trailed off into a moan as Hannibal’s hands kneaded down his back, fingers idly petting his sides. “I-…Holy fuck, Hannibal…” The other man’s lips caressed the tender flesh of the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Will’s pulse climbed, his breath tightening into fitful gasps. Hannibal’s hands drifted up his ribcage, brushing idly against Will’s nipples. The moans he’d been trying to stifle broke from his throat, releasing into the damp air. Will could feel himself harden; his entire body thrummed with need. Hannibal licked the back of his neck, resting his lips against his skin. 

“So eager for me, darling,” he husked. “So hard. Did I not satisfy you?” Will’s moans dissolved into wild, breathy laughter.

“Jesus, Hannibal… it’s just you. I’ve never been this attracted to someone. Never this… eager for touch. For taste. More.” Hannibal’s clever fingers drifted lower, dipping below the surface to caress the quivering muscles of Will’s stomach. Will moaned, arching upward, thrusting into the warmth of the water. The gentle swirl around his prick felt incredible; desperately arousing, enough to tease, but barely. Hannibal’s feet hooked over the profiler’s ankles, coaxing him until Will bent his knees and spread his thighs, giving the doctor unrestricted access to his cock and balls. One arm wrapped around his chest to hold him in place, the other slyly curled lower, brushing against the crown of his swollen prick. Will moaned, heady anticipation sparking and cascading down his spine. He’d never felt so sensitive, so desperately on edge from a single touch.

“You are so tactile, Will,” Hannibal breathed. “So hungry for pleasure. I could hold you against me all night and stroke you, just to hear the sounds you make for me.” Hannibal’s tongue curled against his ear, teeth nibbling at the lobe. “Would you enjoy that?” 

“Fuck- Oh god, your voice-” He could feel Hannibal’s smile against his ear.

“Do you enjoy it when I talk to you? Praise you?” Will nodded, lost.

“Please-” Hannibal’s hand quested lower, wrapping loosely around his cock. Will couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hard. His mouth fell open in a silent plea as the doctor began to stroke him, light and slow pulls from root to tip. The heels around his legs kept him pinned in place; he couldn’t move, only take what pleasure was offered to him. Weak, Will began to pant.

“You feel so wonderful, darling,” Hannibal murmured in his ear. “So hard, so filled with need.” The hand on his prick tightened and Will’s voice cracked, broke in his desperate pleas. He wanted to fuck up into Hannibal’s grip. He wanted to be held down and taken, stroked until he came so hard, he saw stars. He could feel Hannibal harden against his back; the very thought that the other man already wanted him tightened his heart. _God, will it always be like this? If we_ _… if we try… will we always need one another like we do now?_

“I want- please god I want to-” Hannibal widened their stance, opening Will’s legs further. Water swirled gently around his balls, the sensation almost as if they too were being tugged. His pulse climbed, high, tight whimpers escaped his throat, muffled by the damp air.

“Are you ready to show me, my love?” Hannibal breathed between strokes. “Show me how good it feels to be in my arms at last? Show me that you belong to me?” Will’s cry splintered; his heart heaved against his ribs. _Fuck, god yes yours-_ His hips undulated beneath the water, splashing it over the edges of the tub. If Hannibal was aware, he didn’t care; the sight of the man in his arms would have distracted him even if his home was burning down around them. Will looked like a fallen angel, beautifully submissive, giving himself over to the pleasure offered to him. More than anything in his life, Hannibal wanted to see him lose himself in the ecstasy of release. _That_ _’s it, love. Give it to me. Give me everything. I want all of you._

Hannibal’s other hand drifted up to circle a nipple; it was all Will needed. The sound he made as his orgasm rode him down imprinted itself on Hannibal’s heart; the gorgeous, broken cries that emitted from his throat, half formed words except for Hannibal’s name, lapped across him like a wave. Without warning, Hannibal’s own orgasm rolled through him, his cock pulsing where it lay trapped between his chest and Will’s back. White hot pleasure coursed through his body; his limbs shook with the force. They collapsed back against the edge of the tub, tried to catch their breath. Hannibal released Will from his hold and cradled him against his chest. Shocked silence filled the room, barely broken by the sound of the candle wicks and their labored breaths.

“Did you-” Will began, his voice hoarse in his throat. Hannibal nodded, his cheeks flushed a brilliant red. Will turned and caught Hannibal’s lips in a gentle, exhausted kiss. Reaching behind him, he collected the champagne bottle. He took a long drink before holding it to the doctor’s lips. Hannibal swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to speak, but no sound came out. It took him three tries for the fragmented sentence to escape him.

“Will- I… I’ve never-”

“It appears we just do it for one another, Doctor,” Will joked. The flush on Hannibal’s cheeks blazed, but he pulled the other man to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He held him for long minutes, letting time melt away as they caught their breaths.

“You do realize, I am never going to let you go.” The quiet confession eased into Will’s soul, warming him to his toes. _God. Please._

“I would never ask it of you.” Hannibal drew back, his eyes soft with stunned wonder.

“You misunderstand,” he murmured. “In all of my years, in every circle of society I have traversed, I have never met someone like you. I do not know how I am so fortunate to have had you, but I will not lose it. Not for anything.” Will cupped Hannibal’s jaw and brought their lips together.

“You’ll never have to let go,” he whispered, watching as Hannibal’s sex soaked pupils swelled. “But you do owe me a new copy of Spoon River Anthology. Mine is completely soaked.” Hannibal grinned and brought their lips together in a gentle kiss.

“You can have whatever you want, as long as you are mine.”

***

**Monday**

Will stepped from the elevator, smiling at two of the agents that passed him on their way to catch it before it descended. Both looked slightly started, returning his grin with wary ones of their own. Will paid them no more attention, instead mentally preparing for the stack of paperwork that would surely be waiting for him. The Chicago case had been closed within a day of his fateful trip home; Jack had emailed him to let him know they had sent their files along their gratitude for his assistance. The envelope was waiting for him in his office. All other matters had been pushed to the side for the holidays; even criminals had been unconsciously respectful of the season. For once, the profiler was grateful for the lack of work; it meant he could work on his lectures for the upcoming month in peace. _Plus,_ he mused, I’ll get m _ore time for other things._

Hannibal’s schedule remained blissfully empty in the days he had remaining to him of his sabbatical. They’d spent most of their time beneath the covers of the doctor's bed, making food or taking long, languid walks in the forest with Will’s dogs. Will had slept in his arms the night before, made love in the early morning hours as snow fell around them. The fireplace in the corner of Hannibal’s bedroom staved off the worst of the chill; it had been almost impossible to leave that morning. Since the owner of the house wasn’t present, Will had managed, but it had been a near thing.

He made his way from the elevator to his office and flipped on the lights, some part of him fondly tightening as he glanced around at his belongings. Although his work could be frustrating and often made him want to pull out his hair, he had missed the feeling of accomplishment it gave him. The break he had taken served as a fair reminder that not everything about the Bureau took a toll on him; a stack of cards from his coworkers perched on one corner, waiting to be opened, tokens from Christmas when he was in Chicago. Will put his bag down and rounded the corner of his desk, picking up the first from the stack with a grin. 

Only when he’d torn open a card containing a well printed bloodstain patterned card containing a gift card and Beverly’s untidy well wishes did he notice the travel mug. Tall, a burnished bronze and oddly elegant, it sat steaming next to his computer, the scent of high end coffee drifting from its lid. Taped to it was a folded card, Hannibal’s elegant script winding across the front. The sight of the doctor’s handwriting made his heart ache fondly. He picked it up and carefully removed the note, reading it as he took a sip of the rich coffee contained within.

 _Good morning, darling. I wanted to ensure you had an excellent first day back. At your earliest convenience, Jack and I will be going over the case notes from Chicago. I believe Jack will want to introduce us as well_ _… I have not had time to execute my plan to inform him of our circumstances, such as they are. I will leave it to you on how you would like to inform him of our current status. Either way, it should prove to be an interesting conversation._

_Hannibal x_

With a grin, Will picked up the mug and the file containing his notes from Chicago and made his way to Jack’s office.

***

Jack and Hannibal were deep in conversation when Will arrived at his office. He could hear their voices from the hall; Jack’s unmistakable near shouting boomed off the walls enthusiastically. He braced himself and knocked lightly on the open outer door before entering. Jack looked up and beamed. Hannibal, looking gorgeously pristine in a navy three piece suit, met Will’s gaze and held it, his own warm and fond. Will suppressed the urge to grin and strode forward, his hand outstretched.

“Jack. I got a notice that said you’d like to see me.” Jack rounded the corner of his desk and took his hand, pulling him forward to thump him on the back.

“Will! So glad you’re back. Yes, I’d like to take a few minutes to discuss the Chicago case with you, but there are more pressing matters at hand.” He took a seat behind his desk and gestured for Will to sit. The profiler sank into the proffered chair next to Hannibal and tried to keep the smile from his lips. Although he couldn’t see the doctor’s face, he could feel the pulsing, satisfied energy rolling off Hannibal’s skin in waves. This meeting was something to which he had very obviously been looking forward. Jack gave both men a tentative, professional smile and turned to Will.

“Before we get started, I wanted to ensure I had time to introduce you two,” he said, gesturing to where Hannibal sat. “Will, this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He’s as renowned in his field as you are in yours, and I believe you’d benefit from a second set of eyes on the more violent cases you’re called in to read.” Will gave him a tight, professional smile and turned to the man in question, his hand outstretched.

“Nice to-” his face broke into a grin, and he burst into laughter, leaning into Hannibal’s chair. Hannibal’s smile widened to a grin. He reached a hand over and stroked Will’s curls back from his face, turning his eyes up to meet Jack’s confused stare.

“I apologize Jack, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster. His voice was filled with the same laughter that had taken over Will, who sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“What exactly is the meaning of this?” Jack demanded. Hannibal and Will glanced at one another, an unspoken conversation passing through them in seconds.

_What do we say?_

_The truth. What else is there to say? He can take it or leave it._ Will cleared his throat.

“Hannibal was in Chicago, checking up on me while I was working the case there,” he explained. “You wanted him to help me; he wanted to get to know me without being fettered by the constraints of professional curiosity. He planned to observe my behavior on the case and meet with me when we returned, but circumstances beyond his control forced his hand.” Jack hummed and turned to Hannibal.

“Is that true?” Hannibal folded his hands in his lap and nodded.

“You know I was in Chicago,” he replied, his voice as soothing as honey. “We happened to be on the same flight home. It was delayed.” He turned to meet Will’s heated gaze. “We met in the hotel lobby and out of necessity, we shared a room. The night turned out to be more than either of us imagined.” Will glanced back at Jack to watch realization take hold. He sat back in his chair, visibly shaken.

“So, you-” Hannibal snorted. The mirth in his eyes drained as if it had never been there; Jack had clearly insulted him.

“Whatever is on your mind Jack, rest assured it was nothing that torrid. We spoke, shared a room, departed with Will none the wiser of who I am. I didn’t inform him until we returned.” Jack swallowed hard, looking from one man to the other.

“And… now?” he asked quietly. Will shrugged.

“We can work together. Hannibal seems very capable of keeping my mind intact, and I could really use his input on some of the more complicated cases I take on for you. As to the rest-” Hannibal cleared his throat.

“While we appreciate our circumstances may be more complex that you had hoped, you get what you want, Jack. Will is fully agreeing to therapy.” Jack raked a hand through his hair.

“But- you two-”

“Yes,” they replied in unison. The agent slowly nodded.

“You seem happier at least,” he finally said, looking at Will. “Calmer than I think I’ve ever seen you.” Will nodded, pleased.

“It seems winter is the time for miracles.” Will stood and held his hand out. Jack took it with a small smile. “I’ve got some notes to work out, but I’d love to set up some time to get your thoughts on the Chicago case. We can meet again this afternoon?” The other man nodded his ascent.

“That should be fine. Thank you, Will.” The profiler turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. His mind stayed carefully blank until he made it back to his office. The adrenaline that had been threatening to overtake him washed away in a wave of relief. _Jack knows. He will be okay with it when he sees us work together._ The reality of his life crashed into him. _Holy fuck. I have a boyfriend. I_ _’m actually in a relationship._ He fell into his seat and looked around at the familiar surroundings of his office. The image of a picture of them, finely dressed at one of the Bureau’s functions, stole its way into his mind. He couldn’t wait to have it to look at every day. With a happy sigh, he opened the Chicago folder and began his notes.

***

Will’s phone pinged twenty minutes later. He picked it up and read the message twice, happiness twisting its way through his stomach.

[10:10AM] _Jack has finally been subdued. May I see you?_

[10:12AM] **Absolutely. I** **’m in my office. Dare I ask what you mean by ‘subdued’?**

[10:13AM] _Only that he took some additional convincing to prevent him from interfering with what promises to be a wonderful relationship, both personally and professionally._

[10:15AM] **Holy shit. What did you say?**

[10:19AM] _I reminded him that he asked for my assistance, and he was receiving it. Perhaps in more words, but the sentiment is the same._

[10:21AM] **Get in here. Now.**

[10:24AM] _Demanding, are you?_

[10:24AM] **Yes. Need to hear this story from your lips.**

[10:25AM] _Very well, darling. I will be with you in 5._

[10:27AM] **Hannibal?**

[10:28AM] _Yes, Will?_

[10:29AM] **We aren** **’t fucking on my desk.**

[10:32AM] _How terribly uncouth. I never said I was going to take you. I can, however, give you a preview of this evening._

[10:33AM] **Hannibal** **…**

[10:33AM] _Shhh. I know. Open your office door for me. And close the blinds._

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes what would have been my Christmas advent, but turned more into a set of Winter stories. It's always a little bittersweet for me to finish a story; I feel as if I'm closing a door on a particular world that has now been ensconced within the words I've written. 
> 
> I hope the ending was worth the wait for everyone that followed along. I have been so overwhelmed with the wonderful comments, kudos and subscriptions. I'm so grateful for each and every one of you that reads even a chapter of what I write. Your overwhelming support is more than I could ever ask for.
> 
> 🤍JM


End file.
